The Hyde Complex
by Lina-Baggins
Summary: Bones, Kirk & Spock investigate a planet that has just achieved warp capability on their first mission post-Nero. But the planet's medical system is dangerous and Bones' own cynicism is hampered by the appearance of Dr. Charlotte of the USS Arbitory...
1. Chapter 1: I Need To Know

Chapter One: I Need To Know

"Damn it, Jim, I don't like it."

"Bones, we've been through this. It's no different than any _other_ ambassadorial mission!"

"But we've never been there! _No-one _has! Are you _sure_ no-one else could take this mission?"

"The order comes from Starfleet, Bones. This is just something we have to do. Now chin up and get ready."

Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_ left the medical bay with a distinct swagger in his step as his chief medical officer watched him go. The tall, oft-stressed and darkly handsome doctor who went by the name of Leonard McCoy sighed and sat down on a bed, pressing a palm to his furrowed brow. He didn't like this and he knew Jim knew.

But it was Starfleet and right now the crew of the _Enterprise_ could ill afford any more trouble with command. Bones got to his feet and straightened the sheet on the bed almost absent-mindedly. It wasn't unheard of; the inhabitants of Zixaan IV in the Meearan system had just achieved warp capability and Starfleet were obliged to send an ambassador ship to welcome them into the Federation. This was all well and good, Bones grumbled in his mind, but alien planets tended to have more than their fair share of unidentified diseases and plagues, all of which were difficult to treat.

But Kirk wasn't listening and didn't seem to care. After the fiasco with Nero, they had safely delivered Spock Prime and the surviving Vulcans to Delta Vega, where they promised to temporarily run Starfleet's outpost until they could find a way to make the area habitable in place of Montgomery Scott, who had formally accepted the position of chief engineer aboard the _Enterprise_. Now they had received their first assignment – welcome the Zixaans into the Federation.

Bones rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. Still, it would be a learning curve. At the very least, he would be the foremost expert on the sicknesses found in the new system, which would make for interesting reading, little comfort that it was. With a hearty sigh, he turned and headed for his quarters to change.

* * *

Somewhere near the Laurentian system, the USS _Arbitory_ drifted slowly through space, almost totally unmanned. On-board, acting Captain Lucian Malbrook paged the medical bay. "Doc? How are things shaping up?"

"Lookin' shiny down here, sir," came the reply. Lucian nodded. He gestured to his helmsman.

"Do you have the co-ordinates from Starfleet Command, Mister Walbard?"

"Aye, sir."

"Then lock them in and chart course for Zixaan IV. We'll be rendezvousing with the _Enterprise_ upon arrival."

As the _Arbitory_ prepared to enter warp, the acting medical officer, Doctor Britannia Charlotte sat down beside one of the beds in the medical bay and smiled, forcing down the trepidation. As an act of good faith, the _Arbitory_ would be used as a training ship in the Meearan system, passing on advanced starship and medical skills. Fresh from Starfleet Academy, the young doctor -who had minored in xenolinguistics – was looking forward to the mission. But regardless of her eagerness, she was still concerned. This was the unknown; it was alright to be nervous, apprehensive even. What was the saying? _To boldly go where no-one has gone before_? Britannia nodded to herself. Things would be alright.

On the bridge, Captain Malbrook bristled with anticipation. He had been in command of the _Arbitory_ for just over a year and this was his first ambassador mission. He had been surprised to hear that the _Enterprise_ would be meeting them there. He had, of course, heard of the genocidal actions of the rogue Romulan Nero, as well as the ship's new captain's rebellious nature, but he hadn't expected a rookie crew to be accompanying him to a new race in the Federation.

Still, it would be fun. After the pleasantries, the _Arbitory_ had been commissioned to a nine month stay in the Meearan system to keep away the scavengers and predators that might interfere with the planet's further development. A shiver passed through Lucian as the helmsman engaged the warp drive. _Anything_ would be better than coming face-to-face with _another_ lot of hostile Romulans...

* * *

The small, blue-green planet of Zixaan IV looked not too dissimilar to Earth, Bones noted, peering through the hull-side window in his quarters as the _Enterprise_ orbited the celestial body at a gentle drift. From the data he had coerced from the computer, he knew that the planet below was actually far smaller than his home, but it didn't kill the wonder of seeing this alien world spinning in a cosmic dance below him. Not that he was going to tell anyone _else_ that. The comm crackled overhead and to his annoyance, Bones heard his name being paged, "Doctor McCoy, please report to the bridge."

Minutes later, the lift door hissed open and the medical officer strode over to the captain's chair, where Kirk lounged languidly with his first officer, Spock, at his side. The half-vulcan lifted his eyes to the new arrival. "Ah, Doctor McCoy. You'll be accompanying the away team to the planet's surface."

Bones' stomach bottomed out on him, causing him to instantly feel queasy and sway slightly. "A-away team? To the..."

"Oh, come on, Bones. It's only a little trip. Besides, we'll have back-up. The USS _Arbitory_ is sending some of their officers along as well, so it'll be a cheery meet-and-greet for everyone," Kirk wheedled, a bright and deceivingly innocent smile playing across his boyishly handsome features. Bones groaned. He knew from the outset that this was all going to go horribly wrong and proceeded to inform his captain of such. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Doctor McCoy, I believe that your reaction to this mission is becoming increasingly irrational. As the highest ranking medical officer aboard the _Enterprise_, it is logical that you accompany the captain and myself in the event that your skills are required. It is also logical that you attend as a show of good faith – these people have vastly different medical practices than anything on record at Starfleet. It would be wise if you talked to some of their physicians."

"Wise my ass," McCoy grumbled under his breath, turning to leave. The captain caught his wrist as he made to leave. Leonard turned and stuck Kirk with an angry glare. "Let me go... Captain."

"Bones, I'd rather not do this without you."

"Then you had better not treat me like your pet, Jim. I'm a doctor, not an emissary. That's _your_ job."

"I know. But its the first time. I need your support. Besides, I've spoken with Captain Malbrook on the _Arbitory_. He's sending his chief medical officer, Doctor Charlotte. Bright kid, minored in xenolinguistics. Maybe you two should talk, perhaps find something out about the medical facilities in the city."

"I'm a babysitter now? Gee... and I thought this trip couldn't get any better."

"Bones, just help me out here. Head down to the transporter bay and make sure Mr. Scott is prepared. Take Spock with you."

The first officer stepped cleanly back and headed toward the lift in the corner of the tiered room. Kirk frowned at his medic. "You are dismissed, McCoy."

Bones, furious with his old friend, left in troubled silence. A part of him was quietly thoughtful, though. This was a new planet. None in Starfleet had _ever_ seen this kind of medical practice before.

Exactly what _was_ waiting for them on the planet surface?

* * *

**Author disclaimer: **I don't own the _Star Trek_ crew. I'd like to own McCoy, though. He is one handsome devil! I own Britannia Charlotte, Helmsman Walbard and Lucian Malbrook, though. There will be fluff in later chapters, I can promise you that. Britannia is young and hopeful, McCoy older and dry... this is so _House in Space_! XD


	2. Chapter 2: Facade

Chapter Two: Facade

"Doctor Charlotte, report to the bridge."

The order was crisp and clear; echoing around the almost vacant medical bay. Britannia looked up, slightly confused. Normally if Lucian... pardon, _Captain_ Malbrook wanted her attention, he came down to the bay. This must mean something important.

When she arrived on the bridge, Lucian smiled at her, the corners of his grey eyes crinkling. "Ah, Doctor Charlotte... you'll be accompanying me on the away team to Zixaan IV when we arrive in the Meearan system."

"Sir?"

"The _Enterprise_ is sending their chief medical advisor along as well... I think you know him, a Doctor McCoy?"

Britannia's breath caught in her throat for a moment. Her mind whirred back to Starfleet Academy and one tutor in particular; a harsh, cruel man who was no fool and didn't suffer them lightly, either...

"Sir, I must protest! Doctor McCoy and I have... a history. Of sorts. We've never been the best of friends..."

"Doctor, you are with Starfleet now. Whatever happened at the Academy is history and I will require your complete attention to the mission ahead," Captain Malbrook said sternly. Britannia dropped her chin to her chest.

"Aye, Captain. I'll brief the medical team for my absence."

Lucian watched his chief medical officer leave the bridge with the weight of the world on her shoulders. He often wondered what it was about her that left so many people fascinated. She wasn't particularly pretty, but she was a damn fine doctor. She was unusually short for her age – early twenties, he had wagered – and had nice hair. Oh yes, he smiled to himself. Her hair was nice.

Captain Lucian wasn't the first man to think this, Britannia would have said. Her auburn hair seemed preternaturally disposed to be shiny and glossy, with its thick waves only having a penchant for eating combs once in a while. Normally she wore it short and cropped just below her ears, but her cousin had recently been married on Titan, so she had grown it out for an elaborate up-do. Now it swished below her shoulder blades and caught the attention of everyone... even if it was momentary.

Said officer in question had meanwhile returned to the medical bay and was briefing two junior medical staff, who had been surrounded by curious onlookers, on procedure.

"... and if anything _and I mean anything_ happens down there, you get the transporter bay to reroute directly to the containment suite. I don't want _anyone_ coming into contact with any kind of alien bugs until we've done a complete scan and analysis of everything we find..."

"Dinnae fret, Doctor, we'll have ev'rythin' shiny when you get back," a tiny Scotsman by the name of McDonnell piped up from the back of the assembled crew. There was a consensus chuckle before a hush descended on the group. Britannia pursed her lips.

"Fine. I want you all on alert for any situation. Make sure that we have back up if required. With any luck, this will be over and done with quickly."

As the officer exited the sickbay, McDonnell turned to his neighbour. "Eh, she ain't 'alf stressed oot aboot this trip, aye?"

* * *

The Zixaans were relatively humanoid, Bones observed, as the away team from the _Enterprise_ waited patiently in the unfamiliar Halls of Parliament for their hosts. Broad foreheads appeared to be species-specific (rather than individualistic), along with a rather curious pattern of three large, almost perfectly circular black marks on their right temples. The species seemed to almost uniformly sport shoulder-length black hair and seemed disposed to having mottled and pallid – almost to the point of translucent – skin.

McCoy knew it would have been exceedingly rude to pull out his tricorder and start a full analysis on the nearest Zixaan, but that didn't stop his right hand twitching towards his belt, where the medical device sat, blinking a small, green light silently. Spock's sharp eyes noticed the almost imperceptible movement and inclined his head slightly in the antsy doctor's direction. "Patience, Doctor. We must wait for the Zixaan ambassador to arrive. It would be unwise to appear anxious and hasty in this situation."

"Dammit man, you think I _don't _know that?" Leonard hissed as another Zixaan politician passed them by, causing McCoy to force on a smile that resembled a grimace. The politician gave the group an odd look. Spock raised an eyebrow at this gesture.

"Fascinating. Their morphology appears to be very similar to humans, yet is notably different. The Zixaan homeworld is, I believe, much like Earth in attributes. Perhaps this is the cause."

"Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious," Bones muttered dryly. Kirk suppressed a grin as Spock tipped his head to one side and regarded the weary doctor curiously.

"You seem to be confused, Doctor. I am not the Captain..."

"Save it, gentlemen," Kirk cut in, standing back slightly as four transporter energy cycles pulsed in the space ahead of them. With a quiet whir, four Starfleet officers came into view; the foremost a tall man in his thirties with crinkle lines around his grey eyes and tanned skin. Kirk straightened up and stepped forward to shake the captain's hand. "Captain Malbrook, pleasure to see you again, sir."

"Kirk! Excellent to see you, boy!" Lucian guffawed and grabbed the younger man in a rough bear-hug, slapping him soundly on the back. Bones twisted his mouth in a wry smile as Kirk turned red in the face, then purple, before beating off the enthusiastic man.

"Long time, no see, Lucian. Have they given you the captaincy of the _Arbitory_ officially yet?"

"No, still acting captain ever since old McKillop kicked the bucket in the skirmish with the Klingons fourteen months ago now."

"That's tough. So you're on guard duty now?"

"Looks like. Brought me a contingent of my best, looks like you did too. Care to meet the crew?"

"My pleasure," Kirk enthused as Lucian introduced his crew one by one. However, when he reached a reluctant Britannia, she had to be dragged forward to meet the away team of the _Enterprise_. A forced smile on her face, she shook hands and acknowledged Kirk, Spock and then...

"Doctor McCoy... Leonard McCoy. Good to meet you," came the gruff greeting. Britannia's mind came to a stand-still. Could it be possible? Could he have completely forgotten her? Could she really be that lucky?"

"Uh, yeah... Doctor Britannia Charlotte," she replied, shaking his hand. Bones pursued his lips into a half-grin.

"You're a little young to be a Doctor, Charlotte."

"Fresh from the academy, sir." _Not that you remember_, she thought.

Bones nodded, but inside he was screaming. Oh, he remembered her, alright. He remembered her questioning authority at every turn. He remembered her blatant disregard for the rules. He remembered... something else. She was a good doctor. Starfleet hadn't been her first posting; she had begun her medical training in Chicago, but had transferred to the academy when her brother, Anthony, had died. She was like him. She had nothing left. He plastered a neutral look on his face and turned away to face Kirk. "When are these damn senators going to show up?"

"I apologise for the lateness of my arrival," came a soft, fluting voice from behind them. The group turned as one to stare at the short, dumpy Zixaan politician behind them. The androgynous alien gave them a tiny smile. "I am Senator Albera. Welcome to our planet."

Malbrook was the first to recover his voice. "On behalf of the USS _Arbitory_ and _Enterprise_, indeed, all of the Federation, we accept your greeting and extend our warmest welcome to you too. We are honoured you have chosen to align yourselves with Starfleet."

Albera beckoned to them and led them down a long, narrow corridor. "It was an easy choice, Captain...?"

"Malbrook, Senator. Lucian Malbrook of the USS _Arbitory_."

"Captain Malbrook, then. The Federation offers our people protection. At this fragile stage of our development, we need all the security we can muster."

"You seem very self-aware," Spock noted as they arrived at a pair of double doors that stretched from the high ceiling to the floor. Albera turned and looked scrutinisingly at Spock.

"You... you are unlike the others. What are you?"

"I am Vulcan. We are a race of logic."

"Then, Vulcan, I would advise you that we of Zixaan are _very_ self-aware. We seek to better ourselves, to overcome our... lesser natures. We know we are somewhat at the bottom of the proverbial food chain. But we are willing to learn." A loud knocking resounded inside the chamber behind the doors. Albera nodded and faced the group as a whole. "You are about to be permitted into the Grand Hall of Parliament. Please, be silent unless spoken to by the Chancellor."

With that, the entire group of Starfleet officers set their faces in a rigid masquerade of polite curiousity and innocence as the heavy doors swung ponderously open and allowed them entry.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:** As before, I only own the stuff I've made up. I don't think there was a ship called the USS _Arbitory_, but I'll have to get back to you on that. This fic has become one of my most popular, so I'm glad that you all are enjoying it. Thank you for the reviews. Do tell me if you like Britannia and if you genuinely like Lucian. I'm debating whether to kill him with Romulans in a bit.


	3. Chapter 3: Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

Chapter Three: Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

The Grand Hall was a huge, semi-circular chamber with six tiers that held approximately ten high-backed chairs each. On the lowest tier, a small desk with three – rather more ornate – chairs were positioned to observe those that entered from the main doors. The room itself appeared to be carved from granite; but this was granite in its Sunday best, polished to within an inch of its existence.

Nearly every chair in the hall was taken, including the three lowest chairs; the central of these was occupied by an older, wizened Zixaan, who was almost definitely identifiable as an elder of the race. The Zixaan sat up straight and peered at the new arrivals. "Senator Albera, present the off-worlders to the council."

It was a command, not a request. This creature demanded respect and… _he_ (at least it seemed like a he) had it in spades. The senator accompanying the Starfleet officers spoke up. "Captains Kirk and Malbrook, Chancellor, with science and medical teams for anthropological research," Albera stated clearly into the silent room, so full of focus. The Chancellor frowned thoughtfully.

"Federation ambassadors?"

"Yes, Chancellor, of the USS _Enterprise_ and _Arbitory_ respectively."

A susurrus passed through the assembled parliament momentarily, until the Chancellor held up a thin, wrinkled hand and silence descended again. The alien leaned forward and observed the away teams with a kind of hard intelligence behind his world-weary eyes. "Which of you captains the ship to be stationed here?" Lucian stepped forward, observing Albera's warning to remain silent. The Chancellor gave him an appraising look. "State your name and business here, Captain."

Lucian let out a sigh of relief. "Captain Lucian Malbrook, Chancellor. I am in command of the USS _Arbitory_, a galaxy-class starship. My mission is to remain in the Meearan system until such time that I am relieved from my duties as a presence for the Federation should the Zixaan people require assistance in any way."

"Do you think you can adequately defend my people better than we can defend ourselves, Captain?"

Lucian knew he was being baited for an off-colour remark, but remained steadfast. "As you already know, Chancellor, your planet is entering an exciting time of awareness of the universe around it. You have just achieved warp capability and while that is admirable, you are vulnerable to many species which have had this kind of technology for many hundreds of years. Species that would seek to take your planet's natural resources for their own and your people as slaves. The Federation seeks only to protect your culture and to let it develop naturally. If you need our help, we plan to provide it."

The Chancellor looked to his two associates seated on either side of him, both equally as advanced in age as he. While the one to his left remained impassive and fixed the Captain with a stony glare, the politician to his right nodded almost imperceptively. The Chancellor returned his gaze upon the nervous Captain. "You seem genuinely concerned with our safety, Captain. Since we have no way of knowing exactly what _kind_ of dilemmas face us as part of an interstellar faculty, we will accept your protection for the current standing."

"Thank you, Chancellor. The United Federation of Planets is honoured to welcome you into our family," Lucian replied graciously. Albera smiled wanly at him.

"Very well put for an off-worlder. The Chancellor is pleased."

_He doesn't look it_, Bones thought, eyeing the room casually. He wasn't impressed by the imposing nature of the room. What it said to him was something along the lines of trying-to-beat-down-the-opressed-while-looking-slicker-than-an-arcturan-fur-seal. It was pretentious in a hundred different ways and he was starting to feel uncomfortably fidgety. He shot a look over at the doctor from the _Arbitory_. Britannia, her name was. Britannia Charlotte. McCoy closed his eyes briefly and recalled her from the medical faculty of Starfleet Academy. There was a lot of whiskey involved somewhere along the line and for the life of him, he couldn't remember where. Or who. He remembered she was bright, but lazy back then. The type of student who passes without too much effort but with a little application could have done so much better. He relaxed for a moment, _ah_, now he remembered. The constant arguments in his tutorials, how could he forget? The woman was a champion debater and could argue until she was blue in the face!

Kirk cleared his throat quietly and nudged his chief medical officer in the ribs. "You're up, old man. They want to talk to you."

McCoy grunted and stepped forward, presenting himself for further scrutiny. The Chancellor looked over at Captain Malbrook. "You will present your medical representative also, Captain." Britannia shuffled forward, keeping her eyes averted from McCoy. Bones found this interesting, but considered that it might be wiser to pay attention to what the old man had to say. The Chancellor twisted his mouth thoughtfully and looked at them both. "You are trained Starfleet doctors?"

The answer came unanimously and affirmitive. McCoy was the first to continue. "We are here primarily under the directive of our respective captains, Chancellor. Our mission is to observe and to only assist where deemed necessary."

"Do you know how to treat a Zixaan, Doctor...?"

"McCoy, sir. Leonard McCoy. I don't claim to knowing exactly how the Zixaan systems work, but I'm certain I can speak on behalf of my colleague, Doctor Charlotte, when I say that we both are looking forward to learning much from your medical practitioners."

"Does your... _colleague_ not have a voice of her own? Can she not tell me this herself?"

Britannia flushed scarlet, embarrassed by her own lack of confidence. She drew a deep breath, then met the Chancellor's steely look. "Of course, I have my own opinions, Chancellor. But since Doctor McCoy outranks me in seniority as a doctor, I am obliged to accept his decision on the majority of issues."

A faint smile curled the ends of the Chancellor's thin-lipped mouth. "The majority, Doctor?"

Bones groaned inwardly as Britannia bowed her head slightly. "We are fallible, Chancellor. Occasionally, even those in power must see things differently."

"Indeed," the Zixaan elder replied. He stood, causing the assembled politicians to rise with him. "I believe we have heard enough today. Senator Albera, please ensure our guests are suitably accommodated for the remainder of their stay and show Doctors McCoy and Charlotte to the capital's medical facility. I'm sure they are anxious to begin their reports."

"As you will it, Chancellor," Albera replied, bowing at the waist. The host turned swiftly and led the pack into the hall. Once out of sight of the Chancellor, Kirk breathed a sigh of relief.

"My God! I felt like I was up in front of the academic board again!"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain, these people are not so dissimilar in their political structure to the Vulcans. Perhaps I can speak with Senator Albera and maybe learn more about the way their hierarchy works."

Kirk nodded and turned to Albera. "Would this be acceptable?"

Albera nodded. "I can spare some time to educate Commander Spock on our parliament. You and Captain Malbrook are requested at a dinner tonight with the Chancellor. You will be staying in my villa close to the Halls of Parliament. I assure you that it is spacious enough to accommodate you all."

As the short Zixaan led them down the claustrophobic corridors and out into the dying sunlight, Kirk leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Bones. "You think Albera is a woman?"

"Jim, for once, can you _attempt_ to think outside of your pants for a few minutes?" McCoy hissed angrily back. Being in Britannia's presence was making him irritable as they trundled down a rustic, paved street lined with leafy green trees and squat, painted houses behind the oblivious senator. That large amount of whiskey some where in their shared past was beginning to worry him...

The senator paused at a large building that resembled a robust, white-washed three-storey apartment building and treated the guests to a rare smile.

"Welcome to Albera headquarters," the Zixaan beamed proudly.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer: **As usual, don't own anything already thought up by Gene Roddenberry and the other _Star Trek_ writers. Special thanks this issue go to Gracy Vengeance and St. Valentine, along with the nineteen of you who "story alerted" _The Hyde Complex_. Honourary mention to Karl Urban, who is stupidly good-looking as McCoy. I'm completely besotted with him!


	4. Chapter 4: Possessed

Chapter Four: Possessed

The senator's spacious living quarters were comfortable, in an oddly Tuscan way. There were long, low couches with painstakingly embroidered maroon cushions placed at either end. Albera informed them that the lowest floor had space enough to accommodate both the doctors and the science officers, while the captains would share the middle level. The senator occupied the rooms on the top floor and asked politely not to be disturbed after retiring for the night. This seemed such a trivial request for their comfortable surroundings that both parties agreed whole-heartedly.

As the captains took the narrow, winding staircase to the upper floors from the centre of the lobby on the bottom level, Spock faced McCoy. "It would be logical if we did not share quarters, Doctor. I believe it would be wise if you and Doctor Charlotte shared the room closest to the front of the villa. I would expect that your work at the medical facility will bring you long hours and it would be most unfair to disturb the rest of the crew if you return late."

"Are you out of your Vulcan mind?" Bones spluttered as Britannia moved to object to Spock's ill-placed logic. "I'm not sharing with _her_!"

Spock turned to look at Doctor Charlotte, whose pale features glowed with the blush of shame. "Is there any reason to suggest that you two cannot conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of Starfleet representation while you are here and sharing quarters?" Neither Doctor spoke and blatantly refused to look at each other. Spock nodded. "Very well then." The first officer then addressed the remaining two members of Malbrook's crew, both of whom appeared less than comfortable in the presence of the Vulcan. "Which of you is the science officer?"

"M-me, sir," stammered a young man, not too dissimilar in features to Ensign Chekov, standing on Spock's right. "Lieutenant Sebastian Grey. This here's Lieutenant-Commander Robert Epson, chief of Security detail."

Spock acknowledged the beefier man on the left. "We shall occupy the larger room at the rear of the house. Lieutenant Grey, I will request your presence during my audience with the senator later on. Since you will need to know how the Zixaan parliament works, it is logical that you attend."

"Y-yes sir," Grey replied, saluting his superior and following with the security chief to the rear of the villa.

Leaving McCoy and Charlotte alone.

Determined not to face her, Bones stormed past and opened the door to the front suite. It transpired that the room was in fact divided into thirds, similar to the segments of a traditional Earth "peace" symbol. The tiny antechamber ended in a point, formed by two retractable walls. Each compartment in the room featured a soft bed and a small bedside table. A third retractable wall split the space, which implied that the room was not often occupied this way. Britannia peered around Bones' hulking shoulder. "So... left or right?"

McCoy turned slowly and crossed his arms, staring at her solidly for the first time since they had arrived. "Let's not play games anymore," he said slowly. "What do you remember, Britannia?"

_Oh no_. "W-what do you mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. That night back at the Academy..."

His room-mate paled. "What do you remember?" Britannia whispered hoarsely. Bones puffed out his chest and blew out a long breath.

"I remember a bottle of whiskey, but from there on it gets a little fuzzy. I remember waking up the following day and you were gone from the class. You never came back."

"It was better that way. I couldn't face you after what happened."

"Brit... did we... did I...?" McCoy began clumsily, but Britannia turned away, hiding her shame from the superior officer. A wave of realisation washed over Leonard as he watched her tremble slightly. "Oh my God, we did, didn't we? When we were drunk. We slept together." Silence. Awkwardly, McCoy placed his hands gently on her shaking shoulders. "I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean..."

"No, you didn't. Neither did I. It was a stupid, stupid mistake," Britannia coughed blearily. Bones turned her around roughly and forced her chin up so he could look her in the eyes.

"It was a mistake, but we can't go on punishing ourselves forever. That's stupid. We're here to do a job and we need to focus on that."

Britannia nodded in silence and Bones let go of her. He pushed open the door to the left and moved inside the room, closing it with a quiet click. Britannia wiped madly at her face, angry at the tears that had formed on their own accord. It was only one night, wasn't it? It wasn't like she was planning on _marrying_ the older, cranky doctor. If anything, she _despised_ being in his presence. His brusque manner made her shiver to her very soul, irritable and his voice grated on her nerves... what was left of them, anyway. No, there was definitely no attraction there.

On the other side of the wall, Bones flopped down on the bed and forced himself to remember what had happened. It was completely against regulations for anyone teaching at the Academy to bed a student and for all he could remember, she couldn't _stand_ him. So how had it happened? More importantly, why was it affecting her so violently? McCoy thumped himself on the head, willing the memories back from their alcohol-sodden abyss...

_If you studied, you could do so much better, you know..._...

_Why study? I'm passing as well as I want to._

_That's a waste of talent, Charlotte. It's abysmal._

_What's abysmal is that we've nearly finished this bottle and you've spent the last half an hour staring down my top._

_I'm appreciative of the female form. I'm a doctor, you know... as well as a man._

_Mmmm, I know you are. I've got pretty powerful powers of observation_

The elder doctor squeezed his eyes shut. Oh God. He'd hit on her while drunk and she had reciprocated his intentions. Totally unacceptable behaviour from both of them and if Jim ever found out about their secret rendezvous, it would be all over, right after he had laughed for three days at his doctor's expense. Hell, if any of the Admirals suspected this had occurred, he'd be out on his ear, dishonorably discharged and Britannia would be court-marshaled. Though he tried, however, Bones couldn't remember the actual act of being with the young medic.

While the pair mused separately over their shared problem, Kirk and Malbrook were settling into separate suites on the second level. Wasting no time, Jim had automatically thrown himself onto the luxurious double-bed like a kid and tested the bouncing quality. Lucian, upon looking in on his old friend, simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Still the grown-up man-child, I see."

Kirk sat up, grinning. "This is a hell of a place! Albera has some nice digs for a politician."

"I'd assume that it wasn't her first choice of career."

"So you think she's a woman, too?" Jim quizzed his companion. Lucian shrugged.

"I can't see why not. Albera is a very feminine name."

"I am, in fact, a woman," came the familiar voice. Both captains cringed as Senator Albera moved past Captain Malbrook and addressed Kirk. "I take it that you find the furnishing comfortable?"

"My apologies, Senator. By Earth standards, your race is rather androgynous and we found it difficult to distinguish gender," Jim answered humbly. Albera nodded.

"It is quite alright, though I wish you have asked me personally. I have a great deal of questions for both of you, also. Not many of my fellow senators share my enthusiasm for off-world knowledge and I know the Chancellor is finding it difficult to maintain a balanced approach to joining the Federation without having his ear bent by biased and old-fashioned men." She appeared to believe in her words fervently and the two captains shared a knowing look. Lucian was the first to speak.

"We know how you feel, if it makes a difference."

Albera sighed, a sad smile on her face. "I wish you did." In a split second and without warning, her body seized violently and she crumpled to the floor, shaking dangerously. Kirk leaped off the bed as Lucian raced to her side. The captains passed in mid-dash as Jim zoomed to the top of the stairs.

"Bones! Charlotte! Medical emergency!" Kirk roared in a state of panic.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: Okay, twenty-four of you are loving this story! This is a good thing and I appreciate the love. Remember to review! Tell me what you like and what you don't. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I've tried to be as faithful to the movie characters as I can. On the whole, you lot seem to like Lucian, of which I'm glad. He's a good man and I'll keep him around. Britannia may or may not see the end of the story. Don't'cha just _love_ alternate endings? Also, the chapter titles are song titles borrowed from _The Complete Works of Jekyll & Hyde_, though I didn't _intend_ for that to happen. I didn't write the songs either. Shout out this issue is to the reviewers for the movie at moviefix. Bones IS damn awesome, isn't he?


	5. Chapter 5: In Her Eyes

Chapter Five: In Her Eyes

Both doctors raced, neck and neck, up the staircase and burst into Kirk's chamber with said captain hot on their heels. The senator was still convulsing on the floor and Captain Malbrook's face was a mask of panic. Bones swung into action, kneeling beside the Zixaan and yanking out his tricorder. "She's having some kind of seizure, but I have no idea what's causing it," he noted in a stress-laden voice, scanning Albera's head. Jerking his head up, McCoy pointed at Britannia. "Downstairs in my room is my medical kit. Grab the sedatives from the top row. Now!"

The younger doctor sped out of the door as Bones grabbed a nearby cushion and tried to tuck it under the patient's head. Suddenly, the senator's head snapped back and she stared at him with a feral look. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," she hissed in a guttural voice, almost as if two people were speaking at once, before her eyes rolled back and she went almost rigid, the shuddering easing only marginally.

Britannia shot back into the room, sedatives clutched in both hands. Snatching one from her, McCoy jabbed the shot into the alien's neck. Albera straightened out, then relaxed in the doctor's arms. "Help me get her up on the bed," Bones snapped. Lucian and Kirk grabbed a leg each and hauled the unconscious senator onto the bed. As Leonard took detailed scans of Albera, Britannia turned the alien's head on the side.

"Bones, look at this," she whispered, pointing at Albera's temple. The black marks - common to what appeared to be the entire race - were pulsing rhythmically, expanding and contracting in size. "What the hell is that?"

McCoy was at a loss for words. "I- I don't know. Perhaps a side-effect of the seizure. Treating Zixaans wasn't on the final exam in Medical School, y'know?"

"I think we should get her to the medical facility."

"Oh really? You know where that is, then?"

"No, but someone around here must know!"

"Would you two stop arguing? I think she's coming round," Lucian butted in, as Albera groaned and her eyes fluttered open. The senator rolled over, coughing slightly, looking slightly dazed at McCoy.

"You seem to have got up here quickly. Where did you come from?"

Bones absent-mindedly reached into his pocket for a penlight to check her pupil tracking. "Jim... er, that is, Captain Kirk alerted myself and Doctor Charlotte to a medical crisis. You appeared to be having some kind of seizure, from what I can tell. Do you have a history of epilepsy or fits?"

The Zixaan senator blinked rapidly as the light passed over her eyes. "I... do not understand this... epilepsy of which you speak. Occasionally, however, we Zixaan are prone to stress-related seizures. Perhaps that is what it was."

Bones clicked off the penlight and sat back on one knee, his mouth wrought with contemplation. He nodded, but not convincingly. "Alright, I'll have to take your word for it. Just... try not to get too tense."

"Thank you, Doctor," Albera replied, swinging her legs off the bed and standing up smoothly. She nodded at Britannia. "If you are still interested, the nearest medical facility is at the end of this road. The building is marked with a green square. That is, as you may gather, our medical identification."

"Fine," Bones replied gruffly, standing up and grasping Britannia's blue shirt by the shoulder. "You know where to find us." He twisted his head over his shoulder to Kirk. "Enjoy the dinner, Captain."

"_What are you doing_?" Britannia hissed as McCoy dragged her out of the door. The older doctor said nothing until they were back in the split rooms. Packing away the sedatives, he spoke to her. "Stress-related seizure my ass. I've _seen_ stress-related seizures and they do _not_ look anything like _that_."

"Leonard, she's not a doctor. Self-diagnosis is rarely accurate."

"There's more," he handed the tricorder over his right shoulder as he shut the case. "Check the scans. I've already sent them back to the _Enterprise _for full diagnostics."

"But this... this is impossible," Doctor Charlotte breathed as Bones stood, turned on his heels and folded his arms across his chest, frowning gently. His companion looked up at him, confused. "This reading... Senator Albera had neuro-toxins pumping through her system! But the levels, they'd surely kill her!"

"That wasn't my first shock. Check out the brain activity."

"But... but that's a second set of brainwave function! It's faint, but it's there. If she had a separate hind-brain, that would make sense, but in shape and functionality it appears _just_ like a human brain," Britannia gasped.

"Exactly," Bones concluded, taking back the tricorder. For a moment, their fingers brushed against each other. A shiver of excitement rippled through McCoy on the inside, almost the remains of a physical memory. He held her gaze, acutely aware of the heat his own eyes must have been exuding. She was close enough that he could smell the citrus perfume on her skin...

The intense attention was not lost on his younger counterpart. Britannia saw the haunting, animal look in his eyes and almost totally withered away inside. The last time he had looked at her like that had been when... _no_. She shook herself slightly and broke the tension, pushing the medical device back into his large hands. "Uh, I think we should see if I can find that medical place." She turned and exited swiftly. Bones stood stock still for a moment, his chest heaving gently and his heart slowing down. _Calm down, man! The woman is nothing but trouble_, he admonished himself. For the briefest of moments, he had envisioned them entwined on the bed behind him and was secretly thanking any deity who might be listening in on his thoughts that Britannia had managed to have the presence of mind to push him away.

Even if it did hurt his ego a tiny bit.

Barely minutes later, the pair were walking silently down an empty street, each buried in their own thoughts. Trying to lighten the mood, but mainly trying to keep the memory of Bones' burning look out of her head, Britannia attempted to engage in conversation with the brooding man. " So what do you think caused the second set of brain activity?"

"Hmm? Oh. Could be any number of things, starting with the malfunction of the tricorder."

"Come off it, you don't_ really _believe that_. _Those tricorders are calibrated daily. The likelihood of their inactivity or miscalculation is minimal at the worst."

"Then if it isn't the tricorder, we may have misinterpret the readings. It's not unheard of."

"Look, do you _enjoy_ making yourself sound stupid? We _both_ examined the results independently and came to the same conclusion. No, those readings were correct, Leonard."

"Then what, pray tell, do you propose they were?" McCoy rounded on her angrily. Britannia smiled at him. This was more familiar; the argumentative spark in him that she remembered from the Academy tutorials they had shared.

"What I think they _could_ have been... what _might_ have happened... if it is indeed possible, do you suppose there was someone else in her mind?"

"Now, why in the name of all things surgical would someone do that?" McCoy asked rhetorically.

Britannia shrugged. "Albera _is_ a prominent senator... and an outspoken one at that. She championed the movement to join the Federation. Is it so hard to believe that someone would want to keep a closer eye on her and what she says and does?"

Bones smiled wryly. "It's possible, but I've never seen a mind-meld at that kind of distance. The other Zixaan would have been at the very least outside of the villa. That's more than even an elder Vulcan can usually transmit to."

Doctor Charlotte mused on this information. "We'd have to know more about Zixaan anatomy, more importantly their brains and those black marks on the side of their heads. If they are capable of long-range telepathy, it would go a long way to explaining this mess."

McCoy nodded. "There's truth to those words, at the very least. The more we find out about how these aliens work internally, the happier I'll be."

Britannia snorted and moved on. "McCoy, the day you are truly happy is the day that I become captain of the _Arbitory_."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: Is pretty much the same as all the others. _In Her Eyes_ is not a song title from the concept album I mentioned last chapter, but is a play on the title _In His Eyes_. Saw this wonderful movie again last night, I'm up to three! Shout out this time to the legendary DeForest Kelley, whom I have been watching (worked my way through _The Undiscovered Country_, now re-watching _The Voyage Home_). Also thanks to my 26 followers (and to my two good mates who I've been talking to, cheers).


	6. Chapter 6: A Dangerous Game

Chapter Six: A Dangerous Game

The medical facility was an unassuming, flat-level building with a large, green square painted neatly on both of the front doors. Leonard and Britannia entered the hospital accompanied by the hiss of air-conditioning and automatic doors. Finding themselves at what seemed to be reception, Bones approached the Zixaan clerk. "Er, hey there. We're the medical emissaries from Starfleet Command, the ones staying with Senator Albera?" The Zixaan remained impassive. The doctor tried again. "We were told that we would have access here?" McCoy added hopefully.

The young alien behind the counter frowned slightly, consulting the touch screen inlaid into the desk's surface. "Names," it intoned flatly.

"I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy of the USS _Enterprise_. My colleague here is Doctor Britannia Charlotte of the USS _Arbitory_."

More tapping at the touch screen. "Do you have any previous security clearance?"

Bones shot a look over at Britannia, left eyebrow arched in mild disbelief. The other doctor simply shrugged. Bones turned back to the desk and smiled painfully. "No," he said slowly, in case the Zixaan hadn't been paying attention. "We only just arrived here. We are staying with _Senator_ Albera. We are _off-world_ ambassadors. We are to be signed in _here_."

"Doctors McCoy and Charlotte? Human doctors from the USS _Enterprise_ and _Arbitory_ respectively?"

Britannia groaned as Leonard ground his teeth in a tight grin. "That's us."

The Zixaan handed over two white access cards on lanyards. "You have access to levels one through eight. Doctor Morgon will brief you on your arrival at level two."

Britannia shot off towards the lifts as McCoy took the cards. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely through the same forced smile that had been fixed on his face for the last ten minutes, soon following Charlotte in hot pursuit of the transportation to levels that actually contained _intelligent_ life.

In the elevator, McCoy handed over the spare security pass, while slipping his own around his neck. Britannia took it gratefully, but was especially careful not to touch her former tutor's fingers. It was bad enough that her heart was racing and that she could smell the crisp scent of his aftershave on the sterilised air. Bones noted her careful movements briefly and felt a tiny, almost indiscernible pang of pain in his chest. She looked away. "So... Doctor Morgon, huh?"

But Bones was no longer listening. Instead, his attention had become occupied by peering at the lifts' level-number pad. "Brit, we have clearance for levels one to eight, right?"

"Yeah, I heard the admin... _guy_ say that. God, I hope it _was_ a guy. These Zixaans are really androgynous beyond disbelief..."

"Then _why_ does this pad show an additional five levels, _plus_ maintenance?"

Britannia peeped curiously at the keypad. Sure enough, Bones was right. While eight floors were openly accessible, the final six floors were not. "Perhaps they're for infectious disease control?"

"No hospital has that many floors for ICP. Not unless the planet is rife with it."

"It could explain the 'stress-induced' seizures that Albera has been having. Maybe she isn't the only one," Britannia mused. Bones thought about it and nodded cautiously.

"That's one theory, at the very least. It also appears that psychology is one of the areas we cannot access."

"So... what _exactly_ do we have access to?"

"Outpatients, Maternity, ICU, Dentistry, Neo-natal, Clinic, some surgery, administration... that's about it."

Britannia folded her arms. "That's it? These people sure are making it difficult for us to learn about their heads."

"That's what I thought. We don't have access to the levels involved in any kind of neuro-science they seem to practice."

"We should talk to Morgon about this," Charlotte noted sagely as the lift slowed and the doors hissed open. Bones rolled his eyes, shook his head gently and set his face in a determined scowl.

"No, d'ya think?"

The level the elevator had arrived on was a stark, crisp white and almost totally empty. The sole occupant was a slender Zixaan in a white lab coat who turned to greet the pair. "Doctor McCoy? Doctor Charlotte?"

"That's us," Britannia said levelly. The Zixaan smiled gently.

"I'm Doctor Morgon. Welcome to the Zixaan City of the Republic Hospital."

* * *

Meanwhile, Captains Kirk and Malbrook had changed into their dress uniforms and were awaiting the arrival of the Zixaan Chancellor. Kirk's uniform was still crisp and new from its presentation at Starfleet Academy. The fleet's newest and youngest captain had never had a chance to wear it to a proper function before, whereas Malbrook's uniform held tiny reminders of nights spent with hidden caches of Romulan ale and drunken emissaries from distant planets. Kirk smiled to himself as he sat patiently at the table. Senator Albera was seated across from him and next to Captain Malbrook, who was regaling her with the story of the skirmish that had claimed the life of the previous captain of the _Arbitory_.

"So there I am, on a Klingon Warbird, no back-up and the captain decides to beam over to cover me and is transported directly onto the bridge of the ship while they're firing on us! I race up there, but they've already torn his right arm clean out of it's socket..."

"That sounds terrifying! How did you escape? What happened to the captain?"

"Poor McKillop lost too much blood by the time I arrived on the bridge. I stunned the helmsman and navigator purely because I had the element of surprise. The _Arbitory_ managed to beam the captain and I back to the ship before the captain of the Warbird could fire on me, but we left his arm behind. Medical couldn't save him."

"So that left you in charge of the _Arbitory_?"

"Indeed. I was Captain McKillop's first officer. I was a communications officer, back then. I suppose that's why all we seem to get put on now is guard duty and embassy trips."

"You have introduced other planets to the Federation?"

At this question, Lucian had the sense to look dignified. "No, this is the first time, Senator. What I meant was that the _Arbitory_ is often commissioned to transport emissaries from their home planet to the planet they will be serving on."

Albera nodded, demonstrating her understanding. "I see. What about you, Captain Kirk?"

Kirk turned when he heard his name. He smiled politely. "This is my first, ah, _mission_ as Captain of the Enterprise, not as acting Captain."

"You were acting captain for a while?"

"Not for long. We had problems with a rogue Romulan vessel a little while back, which caused a rather tectonic shift in command. As commendation for my actions during the incident, I was promoted to the rank of Captain and placed in command of the _Enterprise_."

The senator would have continued the line of inquiry, had the Chancellor not turned up at that very moment. Flanked by two bodyguards, the old Zixaan acknowledged those present before seating himself next to Kirk at the table. "I apologise for my lateness, but there was a serious issue being discussed at the senate that required my personal attention."

Both Starfleet captains knew better than to pry into the Chancellor's business, but that did not preclude Albera's question. "Serious issue, Chancellor? Was the whole senate called?"

The Chancellor gave his customary small smile, leaned over and patted the woman's hand. "Calm yourself, Senator. If we had required your attendance, we would have sent for you. As it was, we barely had a quorum present. But, as most things do in hindsight, things may have been exaggerated. I believe we have found an appropriate solution to the issue."

Kirk nodded in appreciation of this explanation, but he sensed something was rather amiss about the whole affair. One swift glance that encompassed both Malbrook and the Senator told him that they did not accept it either. In fact, Albera appeared to be quite troubled over the words.

The rest of the dinner passed quite smoothly. The Chancellor was an excellent conversationalist and introduced Kirk and Malbrook to various traditions and peculiarities that were unique to the Zixaan homeworld. Kirk had proceeded to demonstrate his juggling skills to the delight of Albera, while Malbrook had, after consuming a copious amount of wine, recited Marc Antony's monologue from Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_, complete with dramatic gestures.

It was late, the crimson sunlight disappearing over the edge of the horizon, when the party bid farewell to their guest of honour and the senator's staff had arrived to clean up the mess at the dinner table. While Albera oversaw the tidying, Lucian joined Jim on a small balcony at the rear of the house. "Well, what do you think?"

Jim didn't look around. "I don't think that we are being told the whole story, that's what I think," he mused quietly to himself. Lucian nodded slightly.

"I saw the look you gave me. You didn't buy the old boy's story either, I can tell. I'm damn sure that Albera doesn't believe it either. Who calls for a meeting of the senate this late and with only a quorum present? I don't like it, Jim. I think there's more going on here than either of us realise."

"I've sent McCoy with Charlotte to the medical facility. If nothing else, they'll be able to find out about those unusual seizures Albera's been having. Perhaps we have too much faith in our host. It's entirely possible that even though she is sympathetic to our mission, she may have a greater allegiance to her parliament and ultimately the Chancellor."

"You don't think she'd actually conspire to harm the crew, do you?" Lucian hissed in alarm. Kirk continued to stare out over the city, but his voice had grown cold.

"I don't know, Malbrook. I just don't know."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: As usual, anything thought up by someone else doesn't belong to me. This issue's dedication shall be to Gracy Vengeance and St. Valentine. Just because they are awesome. :D

I should also mention that I'm on holiday in Adelaide, Australia at the moment, so I apologise that this chapter did not go up as quickly as the others. Please bear with me! XD


	7. Chapter 7: Confrontation

Chapter Seven: Confrontation

McCoy regarded their contact with interest. "_You're_ Doctor Morgon?"

"I am indeed. I have been Chief of Surgery here for the last five years."

"Mind explaining to us, then, why we only have restricted access to your hospital? Starfleet aren't going to like this, what with us being _ambassadors_ and all," Bones growled menacingly. The alien doctor merely afforded his two visitors a benign grin.

"I'm sure, Doctor McCoy, that there are things about the human race that, medically speaking, I would prefer not to know and you would prefer _not_ to tell me."

"But that's beside the point! If you were invited to Earth..." Britannia began, only to be silenced by an an irritable wave from a stony-faced Bones. The familiar anger bubbled inside her... how _dare_ he treat her as less than his equal! When they were both of equal standing on their respective ships! The disgruntled physician opened her mouth to protest, but Doctor Morgon shook his head.

"Those floors are off-limits to even some of my most highly trained medical personnel. Only a select few have total access to every level in this building."

"Does that include you?" Britannia sniped bitterly. Bones grabbed her by the wrist and let neatly trimmed nail bite into her skin. The young woman shut up instantly, but Bones only relaxed his grasp on her slightly, so that he wasn't causing her any more physical pain. Leonard rounded on the Zixaan, his eyes ablaze with fury.

"Look, we just had a medical emergency at _Senator_ Albera's villa! Do you understand me? A _senator_. A government _official_ and neither of us knows anything about Zixaan anatomy. So how in the hell do you expect us to treat a citizen of Zixaan IV who might be employed aboard a Federation vessel when you refuse to let two highly trained and qualified Starfleet officers have access to information that could potentially save a patient's life!"

The words hung in the air between the opposing physicians like static electricity, crackling almost tangibly. Britannia looked up at Bones and found herself appreciating – possibly for the very first time – how passionate he was about his chosen profession.

He stood like a boxer before the championship fight; towering over his alien counterpart, one hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist while the other looped itself carefully around her wrist. She wondered if he realised that he was still holding on to her arm. The alien doctor cast a sly eye over the almost intimate gesture between the Starfleet officers, as if he could read her thoughts. At the acknowledgement of this simple act, McCoy jerked his hand away, feeling the burn of shame touch his cheeks. Morgon shook his head gently. " You do not need to hide your concern for your colleague from me. Given your current situation, I am of no doubt that I would do exactly the same thing for anyone I was working with."

Bones bit back a scathing remark about the extreme unlikelihood of Morgon being their _particular_ situation. He decided to change tack with the obstinate physician. "Look, we took some readings from the senator. We just want to make sure that our observations are correct, in case she requires further medical help."

The indulgent smile that had seemed lacquered on the Zixaan doctor's face disappeared. "Excuse me? What readings?"

Britannia nodded soberly. "During the seizure, we recorded two sets of brainwave function... exactly the same, but separate. We also noticed that those markings on her temple dilated and contracted several times."

Any kind of good humour that had once been present on Doctor Morgon's face was gone. Replacing it was a look of grave terror. He leaned forward and grabbed Britannia's uniform by the shoulders. Instinctively. McCoy moved between them, shielding her bodily. Morgon, grip broken by the solidly-built doctor, came to his senses and stared up at him in panic.

"What... what conclusions did you draw?" Morgon asked in a rasping voice. McCoy frowned and folded his arms.

"That's why we need access to your neuro-science wards. We have to find out if your species is capable of long-range telepathy."

The Zixaan surgeon relaxed slightly, but still appeared troubled. "I can answer that, Doctor McCoy. While Zixaans are sometimes gifted with enhanced empathy, or the ability to feel what others are feeling, we are not capable – as far as I know – of long-range telepathy, even within our own race."

Doctor Charlotte's face creased into a frown as Leonard tried to make sense of this new information. "So... there's absolutely, positively _no _possible way that the secondary brainwave set was from another Zixaan."

"Or were ever _there_, Doctor. I would suggest that you check the calibrations on your... _medical_ devices. They could be misleading you," Morgon replied sagely. McCoy gaped, speechless, as the Zixaan turned on his best smile for both he and Doctor Charlotte. "Now that we have dealt with _that_ little matter, I expect you will want to see the parts of the hospital you _can_ access. Please, follow me."

As their contact moved off, Britannia shot a dark look over at McCoy. "I don't buy this. There's something going on and we're not privy to it."

McCoy began to follow after Morgon. "I agree. There's something fishy about all this. That doctor isn't going to tell us anything without a full-scale emergency on his hands."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, if Commander Spock were here, he would tell me to do the logical thing and report this to Starfleet Command."

Britannia noticed the flicker of rebellion behind his dark eyes. She smiled at this tiny emotional response. "But Commander Spock isn't here... isn't in charge of the mission. We _are_."

Bones gave her his impression of an angelic grin. What it actually came across as was a devilish smirk that made her slightly jittery. "Then, I suggest we start looking for a way to hack into the central computer immediately."

"Aye, sir!"

* * *

Spock paced his new quarters, lost in thought. He and the rest of the away team had dined separately to the captains (at Spock's insistence right at the last minute, citing regulation about officers and crew dining together and offering to take personal charge of those on the team) and had been released from duty for the night to explore the strange new world. Spock, however, had returned to his room and had worked on his report to Starfleet Command.

"Commander?"

Spock raised his head curiously. The slight senator stood in the arching door frame. The Vulcan inclined his head slightly. "Senator Albera. I trust that my captain behaved himself at dinner this evening?"

"Admirably so. I don't think I've ever seen the Chancellor in better company. He is, I'm afraid, an old man surrounded by old men. He rarely gets the opportunity to remember what it is like to be young."

"You speak of him fondly, Senator. I take it that you are very close to the Chancellor?"

Senator Albera bowed her head respectfully. "He is the elder of the senate. I owe him my allegiance."

"Yet I sense there is more to this relationship than respect," Spock replied tactfully. Albera pursed her lips and looked away.

"Then you know." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Spock knew, alright. No common senator would entertain a Chancellor, not on any planet in the Federation or outside of it, without questions arising of favouritism unless...

"You are related."

"He is my grandfather, of sorts. My biological father died during a political uprising some years ago and my mother remarried. Her current husband is the son of the Chancellor."

"You do not remain in contact?"

"Under normal Zixaan societal traditions, no. Once we achieve adulthood, we enter the workforce and seek out our own lives. Child-rearing only lasts a certain amount of time."

Spock raised an eyebrow in interest. "Fascinating. You do not feel sad at leaving them?"

Albera shrugged. "I have a job to do. We Zixaans are emotionally prepared throughout our lives for the parting of the ways."

"It appears that our two races are not as different as we first appear," the science officer noted. The senator nodded.

"These humans that you serve with... they appear to be at the mercy of their emotions. Particularly that male human doctor your captain appears to be so friendly with."

Spock's face did not betray any information. "Doctor McCoy is a fine doctor and a highly-ranking Starfleet officer. His profession must always precede his feelings. He knows this and has proven his worth in combat unequivocally."

"I sense from him that he finds himself conflicted in the presence of the other doctor... the one Captain Malbrook brought with him," Albera mentioned off-handedly. Spock's attention focused.

"You _sense_?"

"Some Zixaans are more talented than others. I am fortunate enough to have a greater sense of empathy than others of my species."

"You are an empath?"

"Not a particularly talented one, but nonetheless, the talent on my mother's side is in me."

The _Enterprise_'s first officer turned away, thinking carefully over the new information. "Senator, I beg your pardon. Perhaps we could continue this conversation tomorrow? I am... tired."

"Of course. If tomorrow morning is acceptable, I will discuss our parliamentary system then."

As she left, Spock moved to his recorder. If McCoy was going to act illogically while accompanied by Doctor Charlotte, there was no time to be lost.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: You know it. I bought a mini-McCoy. It is win, awesome and ADORABLE! XD Thank you to all my regular reviewers and those following the story. Your support is appreciated. :D


	8. Chapter 8: Streak of Madness

Chapter Eight: Streak of Madness

It took a while before the doctors had an opportunity to escape the watchful eye of the Zixaan chief surgeon. The doctor charged with their chaperoning during their stay at the hospital kept an unusually close watch on the pair as they were shown the medical facility in action, while taking a crash-course in Zixaan anatomy. It transpired that the Zixaan body structure and chemical composition was almost identical to humans, knowledge that came as great relief to McCoy, who had been silently concerned with any unpredictable side-effects the sedative he had administered to Senator Albera might have potentially caused.

The chance presented itself under most unusual circumstances. During their inspection of the eighth and final floor (neo-natal), an intern (or possibly the Zixaan equivalent of the earth medical position) at the hospital skidded into the nursery, completely out of breath and red in the face from the mercy dash. He shoved a data tablet into the hands of Doctor Morgon and pointed at the angular script coursing across its surface. The chief surgeon's eyes narrowed as he read the details of the report, then looked at the intern. "You are certain of this? This report is accurate?"

"Yes sir. The orders came in not five minutes ago. It's a certified code six-thirteen from the senate."

Morgon let out a low Zixaan curse slip out under his breath. He faced McCoy and Charlotte who both regarded this new development with mild interest. Both very perceptive people under the right conditions, the two doctors noticed the conflict clearly passing through the alien physician's head written all over his face. It was, however, Britannia who spoke up first.

"How bad is it and can we help?"

The Zixaan had descended into extreme panic. It was clear that this was no ordinary disaster. Morgon struggled to find the words that confirmed their suspicions. "It... it's one of the Vice-Chancellors."

"What? One of the old guys who were sitting next to the Chancellor in the senate?" McCoy asked bluntly. Morgon nodded.

"The truth of the matter is that he is in delicate health at the moment. There are certain ailments that are... restricted to the Zixaan race. Things that only a Zixaan should know and treat. I believe your female humans prefer to be seen, gynecologically speaking, by another female. Is this not so?"

"Tell me, Doctor, how is it that you know so _much _about Earth medicine?" Britannia inquired. Morgon shrugged.

"Your Federation officials sent us a complete history of your medical advancements. We were... quite interested. We shared a little information in return, which is why, I believe, they sent you."

"Wait... you're basing your views on _us_ off a brief history of medicine from _Earth_?" McCoy spluttered. Morgon viewed him with trepidation.

"Are you telling me that I should not trust the information provided to me by a reliable source? By one that, by your own admission, you _work_ for?"

Bones opened and closed his mouth a couple of times in shock. Britannia reached out and gently took his arm, turning a soft smile on Morgon. "What Doctor McCoy is trying to say is that the information sent to you is applicable... indeed, it is probably current, but individual doctors practice in different ways. We, for example, are field doctors. We serve on starships that are frequently thrown into chaos. Why, I believe that Doctor McCoy here has only just finished patching up his crew after a terrifying ordeal..."

"Yes, well, we don't have time for that now, do we?" Bones butted in hurriedly, shooting Britannia a glare that clearly informed her to keep the Zixaan surgeon uninformed of the events that had transpired between the _Enterprise_ and Nero's ship – the _Narada_. "There is a patient who requires urgent medical attention."

"I cannot allow you to practice Earth medicine on the Vice-Chancellor!" Morgon said, horrified. "It would be worth more than my position to let you wander the halls unaccompanied!"

"Then it's all very simple. If we cannot help with whatever it is that ails the man, we're just going to have to finish up and head back to the senator's villa. You have a job to do and we won't stand in your way," McCoy stated blandly. Britannia made to protest, but he waved her into silence again. Finally understanding that perhaps the grouchy medic had a plan, she smiled beatifically.

"I believe that Doctor McCoy has a point, Doctor Morgon. It would be unwise to keep the Vice- Chancellor waiting. We all have our duties to perform... ours would be best served by reporting to our senior officers in the light of... recent events. Thank you for your hospitality, but it is clear that we are just getting, as it were, underfoot. We'll leave our security passes with the clerk on the ground level."

The internal struggle was incredible for Morgon, that much was obvious to the Starfleet officers. On one hand, his career was over if the Vice-Chancellor died in his care, whereas if he let the two medical officers, his career would also be over. Finally reaching a difficult decision, he looked at them with pleading eyes. "You go straight to the surface. You tell the clerk that I was in the elevator with you and left directly to attend to the Vice-Chancellor. Believe me, there is more at stake here than just my job."

The angelic looks from both doctors did nothing to relieve the tense feeling in Morgon's stomach, but faced with no alternative, he waved them to the lift and left for his office. Watching the alien's retreat, McCoy kept muttering to himself. "Just a little longer..."

Finally, Doctor Morgon vanished from sight and Bones breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing as Britannia eyed him with innocent curiosity. "What do you have planned, then? It's not like we actually _know _the layout of the hospital."

"Follow me," McCoy whispered to her, turning smartly and heading in the direction of the lift. Britannia jogged to keep up with his long strides.

"Where are we going?"

"Stop badgering me and you'll find out."

"I'm not badgering you, I'm asking you a perfectly reasonable question!"

Bones paused in mid-stride and turned to face her, anger clearly present on his face. This wasn't frustration, Britannia noted as she quailed under his glare, this was fury. "Listen, I'm tired. I want to get _off _this stinking planet so I can go _home_. You remember what that is? It's not a starship. It's not another goddamn _mission_. It's a little white-washed place in Kentucky... or at least it is for me. So if you're going to fight me on absolutely everything we do, because of some misplaced guilt-trip you think I should be having over something I didn't meant to happen _and_ which I've apologised for, I suggest you beam _back_ onto the _Arbitory_ and send me someone who will work _with_ me, not against me. _Do we have an understanding_?"

Silently, Doctor Charlotte nodded. The man before her was not the same doctor who had shared a bed with her one drunken night so long ago, but a professional and a Starfleet officer. All at once, she felt cold and shut out. Most of all, she felt alone.

Unaware of her devastated and slightly crushed spirit and even more determinedly ignorant of the guilt beginning to well up inside him, McCoy grabbed Britannia by the hand and headed to the administration desk of level eight, which they had passed on their way through to the medical areas. Due to the emergency with the Vice-Chancellor, the two human doctors found the area abandoned. Hardly daring to believe their good fortune, Bones set to work, doing his best to try and update their security passes while his counterpart kept an eye out for any unexpected officials.

"My God, how in the hell do they _find_ anything in this mess?" Leonard murmured softly to himself, eyes widened ever so slightly in shock. Britannia peered over his shoulder.

"What's the problem?"

"This administration system was designed by a lunatic, that's the problem. There's no way I can find the appropriate files. Hell, I can't even _read_ the damn language."

"Not a linguist then, I take it?" Britannia smirked, the tiny spark of confidence flickering back into her eyes. McCoy shot her a rather cold, stony look.

"That's _not_ funny. I took tactical at Starfleet because Jim... _Captain_ Kirk needed _someone_ to keep him out of trouble."

"Fan_tas_tic job you did of that," Britannia muttered, shoving Bones unceremoniously out of the chair and settling down before the glowing monitor. "Amateur. Thank God _some_ of us medical officers took classes in xenolinguistics." While McCoy fumed silently behind her, Charlotte sped through the system specifications. "This reads like Vulcan, I think. The sentence structure is very similar."

"Great... that's just _great_. That _really_ caps this situation off nicely. The one time I actually _need_ that pointy-eared hob-goblin breathing down my neck and he has the goddamn _night off_," Bones groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and thinking of Spock. Britannia shrugged.

"Making sense of the Zixaan language isn't going to be exceptionally difficult. Making sense of this system will be. I can probably get access to some basic hospital records, but I'd need some equipment that I haven't got with me to properly interpret the information."

Bones was dubious at the very least. "You're telling me that if we can get back aboard the _Arbitory, _you can decode this mumbo-jumbo?"

"In essence, yes. I'm quietly confident."

McCoy snorted sarcastically. "You have _never_ been even _remotely_ quiet." He pulled out his tricorder and plugged it into the computer. Britannia watched him levelly. He met her gaze and nodded gravely. "This is our best chance. Do it."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:** Yep, don't own whatever Gene Roddenberry came up with. Saw the movie again today. Arrived home from Adelaide and am happy to report that both Warp Collection and Galaxy Collection Cadet McCoy survived the trip home. As always, constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated. _The Hyde Complex_ now sits at 41 reviews, 1 C2, 10 favourites and 44 alerts. So I must be doing something right by you all. For that, I am glad. Thanks so much for your support.

Shout out this time? My pals in Adelaide. I miss you already, Jaime and Teena!


	9. Chapter 9: His Work and Nothing More

Chapter Nine: His Work and Nothing More

_I don't want to hurt you...you're an exceptional woman._

_It's too late, Leonard. Even if I wanted to stop now, I couldn't. I've got a good feeling that you're in that same position._

_Command will have our hides for this if they find out._

_Then we won't let them find out. It's only one night..._

McCoy shivered almost imperceptibly as he watched Britannia download the accessible files from the computer. The memories of their time together were beginning to fade into excruciating focus through layers of hazy confusion. Despite the climate control in the hospital, Bones found himself starting to perspire – the way he usually did while flying in a shuttle. What frightened him the most, though, more than a court-marshal, more than a dishonorable discharge and most _certainly_ more than Kirk's berating was that under the stark and severe attitude he was desperately clinging on to in order to remain professional...

He had feelings for Britannia. But this time, they _weren't_ going away and he _wasn't_ drunk.

_You honestly think she'd ever be able to love __you__, old man?_ Bones thought sadly as he watched her work. _She's young and has hope, two things you lost a long time ago. Even if, by some goddamn __miracle__, she saw you the same way, you think it would ever work out? She's on the __Arbitory__. You're on the __Enterprise__. Do the math._

"Done," Charlotte breathed, hardly daring to believe their luck, as McCoy snapped back to cold reality. He took the tricorder and tucked it safely into his utility belt.

"We should get going before anyone catches us," he said evenly, moving fluidly away towards the doors of the lift. Britannia sucked a sharp breath in and bit her lower lip. As McCoy halted before the elevator and pressed the button to summon the transportation, she spoke, determined to take the higher ground for once.

"I'm sorry."

Not turning around, Bones trained his eyes on the metal in front of him. "Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry I made... make you angry. I'm sorry I can't react the way you want me to. I'm sorry for a lot of things I've said and done that has hurt you."

"Hurting me would imply that there was an emotional attachment that doesn't exist here."

At these words, Britannia stormed over to the elder medic, reached up, grabbed his shoulders and swung him around. Her pale eyes blazed with a fury that McCoy had never seen. Despite her diminutive height, she seemed ten feet tall. "You are _not_ some goddamn _Vulcan_, Leonard McCoy! You are a living, breathing human being, which means – like it or not – there _is_ an emotional attachment here! You ground me out for asking a _question_! Now either I'm more stupid than I appear, or you have been _lying_ to me for a very _long_ time!"

"I'm a _doctor_, dammit! What else do you want from me?" The shout echoed around the room and McCoy cringed slightly. Britannia's eyes welled up.

"I want you to tell me that it really _was_ just one night. I want you to tell me that what I'm suffering is really hatred, because it hurts too badly to be... to be..." she couldn't bring herself to say the word, but McCoy understood. In a way, he always had. He cleared his throat, forcing back the emotion in his voice, restraining himself from moving forward because he couldn't trust himself that he wouldn't just wrap her up in his arms and cry in her shoulder. They were doctors, they were on a _mission_... and this was simply the way things had to be.

"One... night. Just one. We were drunk, Britannia. There's nothing left for us personally and we... we have a job to do," he said hoarsely. Doctor Charlotte wiped at her eyes and gave him a watery smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. A quiet bell sounded and the lift doors slid open. McCoy stepped inside, plastering a mask of neutrality on his face to hide the all-consuming empty feeling he had within him that was slowly destroying what was left of his battered, dry soul

"No problem," he replied deadly.

* * *

"Spock to Enterprise."

_Enterprise here, Commander._

"Can you get a fix on Doctor McCoy?"

_Negative, sir. Doctor McCoy is out of range of our sensors._

"What about Doctor Charlotte of the _USS Arbitory_?"

_Negative. They both appear to be out of range._

Spock leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. Had he been fully human, worry might have flooded through him. He might have gone straight to Kirk with his suspicions and theories. He might have done any number of illogical actions. As it was, he was still in possession of his wits and allowed logic to calm his troubled mind. The Vulcan reasoned that McCoy, as brash as he could be sometimes, was at heart a dedicated doctor. He wouldn't risk his reputation, especially on a mission of such importance. The senator might have identified McCoy's troubled spirit, but given the doctor's natural irascibility, it was nothing that the first officer had known before.

Even so, it was a mildly uneasy Spock who retired for the night.

* * *

Breathing in the fresh, cold air in the early evening of Zixaan IV, Britannia slapped her communicator. "Charlotte to _Arbitory_. Come in."

_Reading you loud and clear, Doctor._

"Two to beam from planet surface. No injured."

_Standing by. Energising in five seconds_.

The familiar swirl of bright energy surrounded the pair and in seconds they had disappeared. Moments later, the doctors reappeared in the transporter bay of the USS _Arbitory_. Without saying a word, Britannia stepped smartly off the pad and began stalking her way to the medical bay. McCoy followed in silence, unable to think of what to say in the wake of their decision.

The _Arbitory_'s main medical bay was a hive of activity – sterile but busy, but the young physician passed through the bustling horde of techs and medicos without so much as a backward glance. McCoy noted that when they saw her coming, the crew stood aside respectfully. Whatever else she may have been, here she commanded the utmost respect. Here, _she_ was Chief Medical Officer.

"We only have one rule here," the object of his thoughts said abruptly as they turned a corner and entered her personal office. McCoy felt his mouth twist into a half-hearted grin.

"What's that? _Rule Britannia_?"

Doctor Charlotte rounded the polished steel arch with the flat top that served as her desk. She stared at him coldly. "Actually, yes. This is _my_ medical bay, not yours. You're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy."

McCoy laughed genuinely for the first time in what seemed an eternity. "At least you have an appreciation for the classics," he guffawed. When met with silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to one side as Britannia accessed her own medical records, observing his surroundings. Unlike his own office aboard the _Enterprise_, which was usually a total mess and littered with empty bottles of bourbon and whiskey, Britannia's office was clean and neat. The textbooks were all on their shelves, arranged in alphabetical order and size. This intrigued him. "Books?"

Britannia looked up from the monitor in puzzlement. "Huh?"

McCoy pointed at them. "You have proper textbooks."

She returned her eyes to the screen. "I prefer the feel of paper to a blinking cursor and a glowing screen. It feels more... organic."

Leonard felt a rush of new respect for her. Not many doctors appreciated the idea of a printed textbook. They were heavy and inconvenient. His eyes wandered across to her own personal collection of novels. The classics were there – Tolkien, Stevenson, Dickens, Leroux... all tales of horror and death, tinged with hope. He cleared his throat again. "No Austen?"

Britannia kept working. "No."

"Whys that?" Bones asked, turning to face her.

"Austen was a fairytale writer with no basis in reality. Fitzwilliam Darcy was a pompous jackass who took everything for granted."

"You don't believe in Prince Charming?"

She paused in her typing and met his eyes. Her response was measured. "No... no, I don't."

"You say that like a woman who did, once."

"Maybe I did but, like you said, it was once. Not now. In any case, Austen never drew me in. I found her writing quite boring."

"Yet you'll happily read _Le Fantome de l'Opera_. That says a lot."

The eyes peering at him over the monitor narrowed. "Anyone who knows anything about love knows that the road to happiness is never smooth. In that novel, Erik gave everything to Christine... his whole _life_ was devoted to her. Yet she still walked away."

"So your meaning is?"

The eyes slid back down to the screen. "That love is seldom discerning, is selfish and consuming and can tear people's lives apart."

Recalling the messy divorce he had come through prior to joining Starfleet, McCoy shivered. "Perhaps I should be borrowing reading material from you," he quipped. There was silence, save for a quiet clicking of a touch-screen. McCoy moved around to stand beside her and watched her progress through the linguistic program on the monitor. He spoke softly. "I read the novel. I even watched the classic movies." Still no reply. Bones plunged on. "Without the interference from that viscount, Erik and Christine could have been happy. She did love him."

"She made her choice." The words were curt, but wavered slightly. _There_, McCoy thought. _That tiny hint of emotion._

"She could have loved him."

"He gave her away."

"He didn't want to."

"He still did it."

Bones laid his tricorder on the desk next to the computer, but didn't remove his hand. Grudgingly, Britannia reached out and tried to grab at the device, but McCoy's fingers caught hers. Securing her eye contact, he leaned forward, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted. The soft sensation of his warm breath on her own lips was enough for Britannia to claim the remaining distance and press a delicate kiss against his mouth. Just one, though; a nostalgic reminder of the first time he had crushed his lips against hers, the sweet taste of alcohol on his tongue. Bones whispered into her mouth so there would be _no_ way that she could misinterpret his meaning.

"I guarantee you... there is no _way_ I ever wanted to let you go."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: Woo! FINALLY some decent action between those two! Something rather chaste, but still. I apologise if Britannia came across as a little immature last chapter, but she was fighting her own feelings, something that often leads to irrational behaviour.

I would like to thank the following people for reviewing (most of them have reviewed each chapter!) - thebloodrose, Badger, WynonaRose, PhoenixFyre, pmochizuki, Ginger, mhgood, St. Valentine, Fett012000, Hope and love, Steff7, butitsbetterifyoudo, PetiteDiable, hatorisgirl15, Red Tigress, Rita Arabella Black, Krista, bajan-martini and Irina Samuels. Your input has been vital to the details of this production. I'd be nowhere without you and the rest of the 45 of you following the story. Thank you again.

Special mention – Warp Collection Cadet McCoy, my little mascot on my computer desk.

And I still don't own _Star Trek: 2009_.


	10. Chapter 10: Murder, Murder

Chapter Ten: Murder, Murder

Physically exhausted and mentally running at high speed, Kirk reclined on his bed with both hands folded neatly behind his head. It had been hours since he had last seen his chief medical officer - just before the strange dinner with the Chancellor - and the captain found himself wondering idly where he was and what he was doing. He had noticed, with the practiced eye of one who had been in the company of beautiful women, the slightly feral look behind Bones' professional facade when the young, female doctor had been introduced.

Jim grinned broadly at the thought of the older man being uncomfortable in the girl's presence. After all the cajoling and berating he had endured at the hands of his friend at the Academy, it was pleasant to think that Bones was not superhuman or impervious to feminine charms at all, that he was as much at risk from a pretty woman as the rest of mankind tended to be.

Not that he minded, per se. While Kirk acknowledged that Doctor Charlotte was an accomplished woman, he wasn't entirely attracted to her. That didn't necessarily mean he didn't want to bed her, that would have been ignoring that gloriously coloured hair, it was more that he understood the role she had to play. In any case, it would be hell to pay with Lucian, then with Bones, if he even _attempted_ to touch her. Ruining both friendships in one fell swoop wasn't an action he was overtly keen on committing.

One thing puzzled him, though. There was an odd familiarity between the two doctors during their questioning at the senate. Not that they would admit it, but she had pointedly not looked at him, something very odd for new colleagues hauled before a tribunal. Kirk suspected there was more to this particular story than he was currently privy to.

Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, Kirk heaved his legs over the edge of the bed and picked his way carefully across the room (he could hear Lucian snoring lightly from his lodging across the hall) and stepped out into the brisk night air on the balcony of his room. He tapped his communicator idly.

"Kirk to McCoy. Come in, Bones."

* * *

The intrusion could not have come at a better time, Britannia thought to herself desperately, as the _Enterprise_'s captain's voice crackled over the communication link. One moment more and she and Doctor McCoy could have ended up in _flagrante delicto _on her desk. Rather reluctantly, Bones moved away from where he had accidentally crushed his comrade into the steel bench and removed his hand from Britannia's entwined fingers. Cursing under his breath, McCoy straightened and turned away, lifting his right arm. "McCoy here. Go ahead, Jim."

_Where the hell are you?_

McCoy snorted and looked back at Britannia, who was arranging her desk after the heated exchange. He turned away once more. "We got into the Zixaan medical records. Doctor Charlotte is working on translating them."

_Shouldn't you pass that on to Uhura?_

"Negative. Charlotte has linguistics training. Plus I don't think that letting anyone know that the information was obtained by, ah, _alternative_ means would be such a great idea at this point in time."

_Well, I suppose we have something to be grateful for. How are you coping with her?_

"Coping is a very demeaning term for working with one of Starfleet's _better_ medical officers, Jim."

_Oh, I get it. You like her_. McCoy's eyes bulged, a grimace crossing his face as his captain kept talking. _Where are you now?_

"Onboard the _Arbitory_. We'll be back as soon as we can."

_Get the readouts to Spock before you turn in for the night. Just... don't tell him __how__ you got them. He won't be as understanding as me. Oh... and Bones? Be gentle with __her__. Kirk out._

McCoy groaned audibly as Britannia smoothed out her blue uniform and came to stand at his side. She registered his disgusted look and interpreted accordingly. "The captain knows?"

"No... he infers. Something Jim has become exceedingly _good_ at," Bones growled low in his throat. Britannia looked away, deep in thought.

"He knows there's something between us, then. Does he know about the Academy?"

"No. He _thinks_ that I... uh, have _feelings_ for you."

"Given what just happened between us and what it might have been on its way to, I don't think his thoughts would be far off the case, do you?" There was silence for a moment as the rhetorical question hung in the space between them. Britannia took a deep breath and swallowed. "Listen, we don't need to deal with this right now. The important thing is that we get through the mission."

A trio of soft bells sounded from the direction of the computer. Britannia looked at McCoy for a long moment, then moved to sit back down at the screen. A slow smile crossed her face as Leonard peered over her shoulder. "You cracked the language?"

"Looks like. Very similar to Vulcan, in fact. I was right all along."

"Great. What can we get from it?"

Fingers flew over the touch-pad. "These files aren't organised at random like we thought. They're organised not by patient, but by hospital department..."

Bones leaned in, eyes tracking the information on the screen. "Did we get anything on the neuro-science levels?"

More clicking. "Negative, that appears to be still off-limits."

McCoy let out an exasperated sigh and rested his elbows on the desk, burying his head in his large hands. "So we don't have anything at all. Unbelievable. These goddamn aliens are so secretive, they make the Swiss Guard look sloppy."

Britannia gave her beaten companion a small smile. "I didn't say that all hope was lost, did I? We did get something we can use."

"What?"

Britannia pointed at the screen to a section of text visible from the mainframe. "That there? Administration protocols."

"What good will that do us?"

Doctor Charlotte raised an eyebrow and looked up at her temporary paramour. "Doctor, did you know that the _Arbitory_ has a very talented security system programmer onboard by the name of Ensign Thomas Wallcot? Wallcot would not have been allowed to serve on a Starfleet vessel, but his unusual record allowed him to enroll at the Academy."

"What was so unusual about him?" Bones asked, taking the bait. Britannia grinned.

"He's a hacker."

* * *

The sharp knocking on the door was loud enough in the quiet evening to wake the whole house up, or at least those who were inclined to be asleep at the early hour. Kirk ducked his head slightly and looked around, anxious to see if anyone else heard the resounding banging. It was good fortune that no-one else answered the call. A gruff voice echoed from inside the chamber. "What?"

"Senator, it's Captain Kirk. Can I speak with you?"

"Kirk?" A higher pitched voice, something that sounded more than anxious, sounded within the room. "Kirk, please... can you go away?"

Something in Jim's system clicked on that something wasn't right. The two voices were the same person, so very similar to earlier that day when Albera had suffered a seizure. Panic raised its ugly head like a venomous snake in the back of his mind as he pounded on the door. "Senator Albera? Senator! Are you well?"

Something broke, followed by a tinkling of smashed glass. Kirk kept up the hammering, hoping desperately that the Federation's only native ambassador was in reasonable health.

"God in all his celestial realms, Jim, what the _hell_ is going on?"

Lucian had reached the top of the stairs, wrapped in a simple black robe over his standard issue pyjamas, courtesy of Starfleet. Kirk stepped back from the door. "The Senator isn't well. I think she might be suffering another seizure."

Pale-faced, Captain Malbrook reached into the breast pocket and withdrew his communicator, slapping a hand down on it. "Malbrook to Charlotte, do you read me?"

The voice crackled through. _Doctors Charlotte and McCoy here, Captain. What can we do for you?_

"There's a potential medical emergency at the villa. We have reason to believe that Senator Albera is suffering another seizure. How soon can you get here?"

_We're leaving for the transporter bay. Five minutes at most, Captain. Charlotte out_.

Lucian gave Kirk an odd look, searching the younger man's face. "Transporter bay? Where the _hell_ were they?"

Kirk shrugged. "Bones..._ Doctor McCoy_ mentioned that some information they acquired needed to be translated."

Captain Malbrook nodded. "So they're on the _Arbitory_. That's cold comfort."

"Not a lot of choice in the matter." An awkward pause. "Do you... know anything about Britannia's history with Bones?" The question was a probe, Lucian thought. Kirk didn't know anything about the pair's acquaintance. Not that he knew a lot himself, but Britannia had mentioned in passing, when the news that the _Enterprise_ had successfully halted Nero's dangerous plans, that she hoped that the ship's new CMO was, as it were, undamaged, as she had taken his tutorials at the Academy. To the report that Doctor Puri had died in the encounter, she was ambivalent. The older captain smiled blandly.

"Don't know what you mean, Jim. You'll have to ask them yourself."

As if on cue, two incandescent and swirling pillars of light formed in front of them, slowly resolving into the figures of the two doctors. Britannia looked perfectly calm but Bones looked ever-so-slightly ruffled. The younger physician grinned innocently at the two captains. "You called?"

"There appears to be..." Lucian began, before a Zixaan aide dashed between the group. The previously obstructive door banged inwards as the alien rushed inside clutching a sheaf of paper. The gathered Starfleet officers peered inside, only for a moment, as the Senator emerged; her translucent skin so pale that the veins were clearly visible beneath it, causing her to appear haggard. Both Britannia and Bones had a sickening feeling that they knew what the news would be. Unfortunately, they turned out to be right, as Albera informed them in an emotionless tone of voice.

"It... earlier tonight, a Vice-Chancellor was rushed to hospital. He has... just died. Cause of death is confidential, but it... it appears that he... he's been murdered."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:** Alright, y'all know I don't own this stuff that belongs to everyone else. _Le Fantome de l'Opera_ mentioned last chapter is better known as _The Phantom of the Opera_, a 1911 novel by Gaston Leroux. You guys probably know the Andrew Lloyd Webber version (don't say a WORD about Gerik. Ugh). _Phantom _is a great passion of mine (thank you, Anthony Warlow!), so I thought I would have the parallels in there. I don't own it, either, other than an extremely battered copy of the original novel... and the OCR... and I've seen it 16 times on stage... ^_^

I should also mention that this has more Kirk than I intended. There is a reason for this. Too many fics dissolve into the relationships formed in them. I didn't want the storyline to disintegrate just because Britannia and Bones are... well, that's a difficult one. But this is a story, not a shipfic. Bear with me. Kirk had to pry.

_**Shout outs this issue: **_There's far too many of you now in the alert list to thank you all individually. I tried the copy/paste thing and... well, I ended up with nearly three pages of you. So to each of you, individually, I would like to thank you for your support. It makes this all worthwhile. Also, Warp McCoy is joined by Galaxy McCoy as my mascots. Right now, they're staring at me. * grin *


	11. Chapter 11: Alive

Chapter Eleven: Alive

Lucian Malbrook had long resigned himself to the fate of having those in power around him die in horrible ways. His preceding captain had died aboard a Klingon vessel, a story he had regaled the Senator with. When he was at Starfleet Academy, one of his tutors had died in a core engine accident during a routine shuttle maintenance. So it was really no surprise to him when he learned that the Vice-Chancellor was dead. He looked around at the horror etched on the faces of the _Enterprise_ crew and his own medical officer. His grey eyes hardened into a look of command. "Dead? What do you mean, _dead_? Doctor Charlotte, report: what do you know of this?"

Britannia snapped to attention. "Sir, we were aware of the situation while touring the local medical facility but were unable to assist with treatment." She shot a meaningful glance at the distraught senator, before returning her attention to her captain. "We have restricted access."

Kirk gave Albera a questioning look. "Restricted access?"

"For safety reasons. I'm sorry, Captain, but there are... ailments we suffer that we cannot allow outsiders to see."

Bones marched smartly up to the slippery politician and gave her an icy glare. "Dammit, we could have _saved _that... Zixaan's life! Do you really value the lives of your people that poorly?"

"I value the lives of my people above all else!" It was the first time that any of the crew assembled had heard the senator raise her voice. It was odd enough to silence everyone present. Albera rearranged the front of her robe and composed herself, giving McCoy a weak smile. "I apologise for my untimely outburst. But if this arrangement with the Federation is to last, we need all the help we can get."

"You're saying that the Vice-Chancellor who died was sympathetic to our cause?" Malbrook asked. Albera nodded.

"He was. He supported my motion to bring Zixaan IV into the United Federation of Planets."

"So his death hurts our cause?" Kirk probed.

"It won't help it. I once mentioned that the senate is full of old men advising old men. That statement, for the most part, is true. There are no young Zixaans in the senate. At all."

"What about you?" Britannia asked innocently. Albera smiled tiredly at her.

"You think I am young? Yet you have no clear indication of how we age. My dear doctor, I believe that in your human terms, I would be close to my mid-life crisis."

"Fascinating." The comment elicited quietly from the _Enterprise_'s first officer as he ascended the stairs and drew closer to them. Kirk gave him a questioning look as Spock joined the gathering, to which he nodded in understanding. "I heard the commotion from downstairs. I simply wanted to ensure that our host was in good health."

"We have a dead Vice-Chancellor on our hands, Spock. A very dead supporter of the Federation in the midst of politicians who would rather be left alone," Kirk noted in a dead voice. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Is one of the crew responsible for his death, Captain?"

A sly look to McCoy told him that should the doctor's name or recent escapades be mentioned, he would hear about it for a long, long time. "No. We weren't able to provide medical support."

"Then it is logical that we do not grieve over something that we are not responsible for."

"Dammit, man! Does it _have_ to be logical to grieve over _death_?" Bones growled. Britannia placed a hand on his arm to quiet his inflamed temper. Spock regarded the sharp question with interest.

"Do you, Doctor, believe that death should always be grieved?"

"Of course I do, you pointy-eared --" McCoy shuddered to a halt. Now was not the time to be getting into an argument with the first officer, particularly one who in the last few weeks had lost a planet and a parent. He tried again. "Look, I'm a doctor, not a diplomat. It's late. I haven't _slept_, for God's sake!"

"An excellent point, Doctor," Lucian cut in, grabbing the larger man by the shoulders and proceeding to shunt him on his way to the staircase. The amiable captain looked back at the group and grinned. "I think we should all deal with this in the morning, when things will be clearer for everyone."

Kirk consulted his science officer, who agreed. "There is nothing more we can do tonight, Jim. It is better if we all get some rest and face this with fresh minds in the morning."

The captain of the _Enterprise_ breathed a long, slow sigh of thoughtfulness. "Alright. Let's all head back to bed for now. We'll address this in the morning."

* * *

Bones lay on his back, one hand tucked behind his head, the other resting lightly on his bare stomach. The weather was comfortably warm, so the thick and fleecy pyjamas he would have normally donned on-board the _Enterprise_ lay idly over the end of the bed, leaving him dressed in only his white boxer shorts.

The tiny area he was allocated was jammed up against the wall with no external light source, save the unusual spiral light at the center of the ceiling. To his mild delight – not that anyone else was going to be let in on the fact – the starlight from the right-side window made it possible for him to watch Britannia undress in the room adjacent. He noted, with a tiny smirk, that living on a starship without much exercise had caused her figure to fill out a little more than when she had been at the Academy. Apparently, McCoy chuckled to himself, it only served to make her curvy and hell, curvy _was_ sexy. At least, to him it was. He didn't need to be drunk to appreciate _that_.

The low noise caught Britannia's attention as she pulled the over-sized shirt down over her head. She moved to the divider and placed an ear against the smooth, grey wall. "Leonard? Something wrong?"

McCoy felt the breath catch in his throat. Hastily clearing it, he put on his most doctoral tone, "I'm fine. Just... just remembering something funny."

"Uh huh. You really _must_ think I'm dumber than I look if you think that I'll let you fob me off like that. Out with it, McCoy."

"Fine, fine. You might want to turn the light out. I can still see you through the wall."

A loud thump resounded against the wall in question. "Pervert!"

The rumbling laugh that answered the insulted punch to the wall only served to make Britannia more indignant. Slamming open the door and marching straight into his room, the young woman was taken aback to see the physician in such relaxing repose. He smiled lazily at her. "It's warm tonight."

"I don't doubt it."

"No point in wearing those pyjamas."

"No, I suppose not."

"Want to stay?" The last question stuck. Britannia's eyes roamed over the reclining form of Leonard McCoy, drinking in the muscles that she hadn't seen since her Academy days and wondering if he was still as talented as he had been back then. McCoy sat up and reached for her hands, his eyes turning sad. "Brit, we lost someone tonight because of bureaucratic nonsense. We could have _saved_ him."

"No... I can't think like that."

Bones pulled her down onto the bed next to him and let his stare bore into her. Britannia reached up and touched his face gently. He sighed softly at the caress. "Brit... don't leave me here tonight. Please."

"I thought we would talk about this later."

"I don't want _later_. I want _now_."

"You're willing to risk your position at Starfleet for this?"

"A doctor is a doctor anywhere in the universe. I'll start again if I have to."

Britannia swallowed and willed the urge to just take her fill of him then and there to go away. "How many times can you start again, Leonard? How many times can you run away from what's left behind and build it all up again?"

A flash of anger behind Bones' dark eyes. "I'm tired of seeing death all around me, Brit. I watched a large percentage of the _Enterprise_ crew have their lives extinguished because someone was so built on hate and revenge that they couldn't see straight. That's what _death_ does to you." He rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his, eyes searching for her acceptance. "I want to feel _alive_ tonight." A hand trailed between them, drifting over the sculpted muscles and down to the band of his boxers. Britannia grinned naughtily as she pushed him up.

"A rebel... but still wearing standard issue underwear?"

Sitting upright and looking slightly harassed, McCoy ran a hand through his hair, tousling it so that it stuck out at odd angles. Britannia shuffled upright and smiled brightly at him as he pouted. "You have a way of killing any desire I ever have to bed you, you realise that?"

"I worked on it while I was away. Can't have any recurring problems in the mission, can we?"

"You're impossible."

"You're incorrigible."

"You're in the wrong room," came a voice from the door. Both doctors turned to see Commander Spock watching them archly, arms folded across his chest with one eyebrow bound hairline-wards. "Is there a problem, Doctor McCoy?"

"No... nothing, sir," Bones replied coldly as Britannia slunk off to her own quarters. Watching her go, Spock returned his attention to the CMO.

"Doctor, I understand that, as a human, you find it difficult to reign in your... urges. However, I will respectfully ask you to restrain yourself until after the mission is completed."

"Tough talk coming from an emotionless elf," McCoy grumbled, digging his way under the quilted coverlet. Spock frowned.

"Your poorly veiled insult about my relationship with Lieutenant Uhura is irrelevant. I simply require that you keep your mind on the task at hand for the good of the mission."

"Whatever," Leonard grunted, closing his eyes. Spock watched him for a moment longer, before leaving the ruffled doctor in peace. The science officer returned to his quarters and retrieved his tricorder.

"First officer's log; supplemental. It appears that there is a conflict of interest in this mission for Doctor McCoy..."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:**Okay, yada yada, I don't own McCoy -sobs- but I own Britannia. This one pushed the limits a little (can't write a full-scale naughty scene without changing the rating, dammit!). Now Spock is in the way... oh whatever shall we do!? XD

_The Author would like to thank_:

aisarikka, animeragon, bajan-martini, Brazan Hussy, Broal13, butitsbetterifyoudo, CaffeineKid, Chuckney, Con4ti, cowsquashmelon, CrystalHeaven, Delfang, , Demon of the Deep, dragonwitch250, Fett012000, geek'd, Ginger, hatorisgirl15, Hope and love, hopeyoudontmind,jam everyday, JBadgr, Kaokie, Lily Grace, lottie-09, Lyra Lupin, Marebear007, mhgood, mintmelodygirl, Ohtar Vicky, Pam Briggs, PetiteDiable, pmochizuki, PrincessLillibet, Pup-of-Power, Rachel Sparrow, Rita Arabella Black, RJ Lewis, sci-fi-rocks, SlayersGrl, St. Valentine, stareagle, thebloodrose, tinkwings, Tsuki no Yasha, VonRose, Winged Seraph, WynonaRose.

Because you followed.

And Gracy. Because she writes.


	12. Chapter 12: Letting Go

Chapter Twelve: Letting Go

The night passed uneventfully, but very few in the villa slept soundly. Bones tossed and turned in his bed, unable to force the thought that only a thin screen divided him from the one woman who... _god_, it had been so _long_. He longed to remember the night they had spent together and it _was _coming back, if only in bits and pieces. McCoy had been hit with the recollection of what it was like to kiss her; a physical memory that had overwhelmed his senses when they had managed to sneak that one moment of bliss aboard the _Arbitory_. He remembered, with a wry smile, the first time he had kissed her...

_He had taken her by surprise. The bottle was empty and she was leaving. Some crack about studying, something that said she was lying to him. He was tired of the lies, of the fire that burned in their arguments. It was driving him insane. __She__ was driving him insane. The soft sway of her hips as she moved to go. No... she wasn't leaving. He had stopped her, clutching her wrist desperately – not another night alone! Her eyes were searching his face... what were they looking for?_

_Then his hands were on her hips, those swaying hips, pulling her closer... she was on his level now, auburn hair tumbling forward, messed slightly with sweat... her body temperature had risen from the amount of alcohol she had imbibed... the press of her lips was sloppy at first, he couldn't remember how to kiss properly, then it came back to him and he was master of the situation, showing her what authority meant..._

He groaned and rolled onto his front, certain that the glorious pain coming from his pelvis wasn't going to go away. Not while _she_ was in the _next_ _goddamn_ _room_. It was impossible. He'd missed her in class... the spirit, the _passion_ for medicine had left that particular room when she did. McCoy moaned again and shifted his hips slightly, digging them into the mattress. He soon discovered this wasn't the most intelligent of ideas when a sharp ripple of heat seared through his body and made him shudder in a way that he only generally enjoyed in the privacy of a hot shower and a mindful of predetermined fantasies.

_This is going nowhere, dammit. No sleep, no damn relaxation... not even her, __here__. _There was nothing else for it. Bones flipped himself over, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled blindly in the dark out of his chamber towards the bathroom.

It was the sound of running water that woke Britannia up from her fitful napping. Not that she had been sleeping too well herself; the sounds of Leonard grunting, twisting and turning on his bed meant that she hadn't been able to get a proper amount of sleep. This was mainly because the sounds could have been attributed to... _something else_. She didn't want to think about it, but the insidious thoughts burrowed into her mind and presented themselves in glorious Technicolor. Much like earlier that night when she had come in to yell at him for being a cad and childish but instead found him sprawled out on his bed like a twentieth-century romance novel cover. _Surely that kind of thing is illegal?_

The running water caught her attention again. _He's taking a shower? At this time of night?_ Something didn't add up. Maybe her thoughts had lent a scrap of truth... _he __can't__ be. Working the frustration out at __this__ hour? _Britannia had to know. Had to find out why McCoy was awake and in the shower at the equivalent of three in the morning. Anyone who had ever known McCoy could tell the interested party that he was, by all accounts, _not_ a morning person.

By the time she found herself in the tiny bathroom allotted for their use, the glass doors were fogged up and McCoy's naked form blurred by the steam. She could see him moving; his back to her, facing the wall that the shower head was mounted on. Britannia watched as a slick arm moved up and a hand ran through his wet hair, shaking out the soapy suds of the shampoo he had used. _Well, at least he's a __clean__ grumpy doctor_, she mused. A soapy hand slammed against the wet wall from inside the shower. "Dammit!"

The breath caught in the young doctor's throat as the hand she was watching in his hair disappeared into the foggier part of the shower. Leaning further inside to see what was going on, the steam began to turn her carefully brushed hair into ratted, tangled curls. Cursing silently, Britannia stretched her neck to peer in on her colleague. Despite her innate curiosity, a part of her brain was _screaming_ at her that she should just walk away. She didn't need to be privy to this private act.

In the shower, McCoy closed his eyes and let the water flood over his glistening skin. The tension in his shoulders leaked out as the suds from the soap rolled over them. His free hand glided past his hips and prepared to do away with the bodily function that had been keeping him awake. A soft moan escape his lips and he leaned against the wall, self-absorbed with the process...

Her foot squeaked.

There was a sharp breath from the shower as Britannia's mind went blank with panic. The door slid open and McCoy stumbled out of the wet chamber, rubbing the soap out of his eyes. He blinked blearily at Britannia. "What are you doing in here? It's the middle of the night, goddammit!"

"Explain to me why you were tossing and turning in bed for most of it and wound up in here, then!" Britannia thundered back, a little shakily and trying to keep her eyes above his waist. McCoy flushed darkly.

"I... I couldn't sleep. I thought a shower might help..."

"Uh huh... you know, as a doctor, there are some interesting physiological factors goin' on right now that are telling me you're lying."

Bones looked down and realised with a start that he was still dripping wet and naked. His broad hands shot down to cover himself as the young woman smirked at him. He scowled. "Fine. You can see why I couldn't sleep. Happy?"

"Not really. Was that... due to me?"

"I can't remember you in bed, you know that. I can only pose a hypothesis on the matter."

Doctor Charlotte lowered her eyes to the floor. "I remember what you were like. I can't forget."

A tenser moment Leonard McCoy had only experienced once before; when his ex-wife had served him with the divorce papers while her plastic surgeon toy-boy stood grinning in the doorway. But that had nothing on standing on cold tiles covering his wedding tackle and staring at a fellow Chief Medical Officer while wondering if she would just walk out or join him in the shower. The majority of him, heartily aware of the situation behind his hands, was voting for the latter...

"I'll leave you in peace," she whispered, turning on her heel and leaving the room. McCoy's hands slid to his sides, the water ensnared by his hair dribbling in rivulets down his face and neck. A tightening in his chest forced him to let out the breath he was holding. Dropping his chin to his chest, he sighed and returned to the shower to... finish off. If he didn't do _something _about his attraction to Britannia soon, it was going to drive him mad.

* * *

"Spock? You're still awake?"

The Vulcan science officer looked over his left shoulder to see his captain join him on the ground level balcony in the cool night air. "Captain, I wasn't expecting you. I was merely taking a moment to quietly reflect."

"On what?"

"It has come to my attention that Doctor McCoy may have some personal issues working alongside Doctor Charlotte."

"Personal?" Kirk queried, sounding at least slightly interested, while leaning against the stone wall that ended a little higher than his rear. He rested the heels of his palms on the ledge. "How so?"

"It appears that he and Doctor Charlotte have had, or are intending to pursue, a personal relationship."

"Who? Bones? _Really?_" Kirk guffawed in surprise, slapping his first officer on the back and laughing riotously. "Good _man_!"

"Captain, I fail to determine the source of your humour," Spock ventured, puzzled. Jim shook his head.

"I have no doubt you would. Listen, _Spock_, you're half human. You have Uhura. You _know_ what conflict of interest feels like from the inside."

"I do not believe that _my _personal feelings for Lieutenant Uhura have the same kind of impact on a mission of this magnitude..."

"Spock, I'm gonna fill you in a little on our gallant Doctor McCoy in there. That man personally saved hundreds of lives during the battle with the _Narada_... and he did it on his own. When we came through it, there was no-one waiting for him back home. You had your dad, I had my mother... but who did Bones have? No-one. He _has_ no-one. When we were at the academy, it was him who saved _my_ sorry ass on so many occasions. Y' know, I don't think I've ever seen him so much as _cuss_ at a woman off-duty before. Oh, I know he moans about that ex of his, but he's nothing but a cool gentleman to the ladies. Too focused on saving lives to notice that his own is wasting away. So... I think we can cut him a _tiny_ bit of slack on this, don't you?"

"Slack?"

James Kirk breathed a sigh and shook his head. "Spock, as Doctor McCoy's _and your_ commanding officer, I'm ordering you to stay out of McCoy's medical investigations until such time that his emotional state inflicts upon his reason and judgment in a negative way, at which point I will relieve him of duty." A smile flashed across Jim's features. "Are we clear, Commander?"

A curt nod from his second. "We are clear, Captain."

"Good. Now, I trust, we can all get some sleep. God only _knows_ what the hell tomorrow is going to throw at us."

As Kirk walked away, Spock mused to himself about when this sudden bout of adult attitude and maturity had struck James T. Kirk.

Little did he know that Kirk was planning to laugh at Bones for a _very_ long time.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: I noted that you all were put out with a lack of action. I'm letting this simmer on the stove for a bit, so please... bear with me while the story takes its funny twists and turns. I'd like to thank the contributors to _The Captain and the Doctor_– a LJ community – for their inspiring reads that kept me interested. Yes, its slash... but it's a fab kind of slash! As usual, I still don't own the trademarked ones.

_The Author also wishes to thank_:

Dealan de and twilightplotbunny, for joining the legion of followers. People, we just hit FIFTY! Tell your friends! ^_^

My bridge-crew fangirl pals, St. Valentine and Gracy Vengeance. For being awesome.

Karl Urban, for inspiring this fic. Because he was so AWESOME as McCoy.

DeForest Kelley, for being a legend. Thanks for making McCoy worth writing about.


	13. Chapter 13: Mass

Chapter Thirteen: Mass

For Britannia, the slow walk back to the tiny allotted space she had decamped in was agonisingly slow. Every inch of her screamed that she should immediately storm back into that bathroom and have her way with that glorious man who seemed intent on destroying the carefully constructed walls that she had built up to push him out of her mind… but why _should_ she? He'd never indicated that he had ever felt anything but deep loathing for her before, what changed after one drunken night together?

Reaching the end of the bed, she sat down, burying her face in her hands and feeling the heat burn against her palms. It was stupid. She should have seen it coming, she knew that. It had been a bad call on her part that night to visit the bar, to get plastered before an exam. It was beyond her why Doctor McCoy had chosen _that_ bar to visit on _that_ night. Most surprisingly of all, he hadn't been in the company of the _Enterprise_'s captain, Jim Kirk. The pair had been inseparable during their years at Starfleet.

But he had walked in, somewhere close to half-past ten at night and dressed down out of his cadet uniform in a leather jacket and jeans, while she was nursing a tumbler of whiskey with the near-full bottle in front of her, sat down beside her and _ignored her_ for a full ten minutes. Out of curiosity, she had watched him order a shot of bourbon and knock it back with the practiced skill of one who had seen the bottom of too many bottles. When he had slammed the glass back on the counter-top, she had waved the bottle at him in a vague invitation to join her.

She doubted that she would _ever_ forget the frigid look in his eyes when it registered who she was.

But it hadn't stopped him taking the proffered measure of alcohol and after three or four more drinks the conversation had started to flow more evenly. Since he was already an M.D, the training he was partaking in at Starfleet was mainly refresher courses, xenopathology and some vague classes in tactical with Jim Kirk, who always seemed to be in some kind of trouble or another. Britannia smiled to herself. She liked the way he spoke of Jim, like an errant little brother who was always falling over and scraping his knee. Cold exterior aside, she could tell the doctor was a lonely man and that Kirk was the closest thing he had to family.

The alcohol had dwindled away and she had tearfully recounted the story of her brother's death. He had reached over and placed a consoling hand on the wrist that gripped the tumbler, patting it gently. She had looked at him and appreciated for the first time that his bedside manner might not have been all that gruff. He _did_ have feelings after all; it was simply the case that in his line of work, showing them wasn't such a great idea.

There had been some mild flirting on both parts, mainly due to the inebriation. Of course, she wasn't going to dismiss his delightfully attractive physique… seeing him lounged on his bed had reminded her that he liked to keep in good shape. Lifting unconscious patients was not for the weak of stamina. But she knew her limits. The empty bottle was wavering in front of her, so she had cracked one last joke in his direction and got up to leave. At least, she had _tried_ to leave. His hand had tightened around her wrist, keeping her beside him. His dark eyes were hungry, _starving_ in a feral way that she rarely ever saw.

It had made sense, she recalled, when she had crushed her mouth against his and suddenly became aware that he was slowly taking charge of the situation. Of how he had wrapped those long arms around her, pinning her to him bodily so that she could feel every curve of the muscles that moved beneath the comfortable clothes. Minutes later, they had been back at his room, tearing the clothes off each other and tumbling onto the messy sheets that were surrounded by textbooks…

She was _shivering_.

Despite the mostly warm night, the recollection of her night in Doctor McCoy's bed was causing her to quake, tiny tremors rippling across her goose-pimpled skin. Britannia rubbed her arms absently. The physical reaction to the thoughts that were chasing each other through her head meant that she couldn't put off admitting to herself that she had _indeed_ become attracted to her former tutor.

"This is stupid," she whispered to herself, snuggling under the covers once more. However, she remained awake long enough to see a star-lit silhouette pass behind the screen and tumble into the bed next door with a satisfied sigh.

* * *

The Zixaan religious ceremony for the mourning of the late Vice-Chancellor was odd by most humanoid race standards. This was mainly because there were no written words to be said, no prayers offered to unseen gods, not a single chair draped in the appropriate funereal colours. Instead, the coffin – sealed and locked – sat in a chapel where those who knew the alien in life could reflect upon the time spent in his company.

The Starfleet away teams shuffled nervously into the church behind Senator Albera, who appeared a little more composed than the previous night. Captains Kirk and Malbrook followed the politician to the front of the room where the coffin sat ominously, made from some kind of dark wood.

At the back, Bones shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. Back at the villa, he had convinced Jim to take a concealed tricorder up to the coffin to get some kind of vague reading from it. Britannia caught his hand and pulled him next to her to keep him still. Spock noticed the small action, but decided, prudently and per his captain's wishes, to not mention it.

Kirk approached the coffin, trying to show the appropriate level of remorse for the death of such an advocate. Drawing alongside the casket, Jim bowed his head in respect and tucked his hands into his pockets, activating the tricorder. Thankfully, the scanner was silent as the shifty captain passed by, a solemn look on his young face. Lucian had been mentally preparing himself for the old man's funeral, but still found it difficult to believe that this was the way that Zixaans dealt with grief.

"Sad that the old fellow had to shuffle that way, isn't it?" Malbrook whispered as they moved past. Kirk nodded solemnly.

"Not the way I would have picked to go, no."

Lucian snorted under his breath. "Jim, if I know you, you'd like to die in the company of a beautiful woman, utterly drunk and being chased out of the bedroom window by a jealous husband."

"I would _not_!" Kirk hissed, but a lecherous grin had already reached his blue eyes. Lucian chuckled and shook his head.

"Don't try talking your way out of it, Jim Kirk. I know you."

Kirk had to crack a proper smile at that one. Lucian _did_ know him. At least, he knew him well enough to call his bluff. At the Academy, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, he'd been a senior cadet in Kirk's first year. When Bones had locked himself up for the night, studying and generally being – in Kirk's mind – _boring_, it was Lucian who enabled his wild behaviour. Of course, McCoy would never _learn_ about it, since it was usually the sardonic doctor who was dragged out of bed in the middle of the night to sew the delinquent cadet back together.

But Lucian had graduated that year, assigned as Communications Officer on the _USS Arbitory_. In the following months, he managed to work his way up to First Officer, which led to the _Arbitory_'s stationing near the Klingon neutral zone. That, Kirk reflected, had been the worst idea that Starfleet could have made. After the skirmish that claimed the life of Captain McKillop, Command had simply left the ship out there, issuing a statement that the crew onboard were sufficient to man the vessel and that since there was no serious damage to the craft, their tour of duty would continue with Malbrook promoted to Acting Captain until such time that he returned to Earth.

Kirk had to hand it to him, though, as he moved to rejoin his own crew at the back of the room. Lucian had grown up a lot since he had last seen him. There were creases on the older man's face that had settled in as the strain of command took its toll. Kirk indulged in an inward groan. _God_ he hoped that wouldn't happen to him. Somehow, getting old didn't seem to factor into his plans.

Getting through the day alive quite often did.

"Well?" Bones hissed as they reunited. Jim nodded slightly.

"I did what you asked. What are you looking for?"

Bones frowned. "If I'm wrong, nothing. Political assassinations happen all the time. If I'm right… I'll be very, very frightened."

This startled Kirk. For some reason, which right now seemed incredibly stupid, he'd always thought of McCoy as unafraid of most things, save flying and the occasional beaming incident. To think that his Chief Medical Officer was… _scared_ of whatever the dead body scans returned had Jim more than a little unnerved. He slipped the tricorder out of his pocket and pressed it into the hand of the doctor. "Take it and get out of here. Take Britannia with you. Get back to the _Enterprise_ or the _Arbitory_… either one will do. Run full diagnostics and report to Commander Spock when you're done."

"Spock? Are you sure that's such a _good_ idea?" McCoy muttered, eyeing the Vulcan distrustfully. Kirk swallowed nervously.

"It'll be fine. Trust me."

"Somehow, Jim, that doesn't make me feel a _whole_ lot better," the doctor replied, turning on his heel and leaving the hallowed hall, the younger physician scarpering after him in his wake. Kirk took a deep breath and faced the front of the room. Lucian dipped his head, so that his mouth was close to the young captain's ear.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Jim," he whispered. Kirk was staring blankly ahead.

"I know what I'm doing. I just hope they know what _they're_ doing."

* * *

"What are we looking for?" Britannia yelled after him as McCoy strode purposefully onwards. He came to a sharp stop and turned to face her.

"_Think_. We have a hospital with six floors we can't access."

"Yeah, I know that."

"We can't access neuro-surgery. We also can't access _the morgue_."

Britannia's face paled in realisation. "You mean…"

Bones nodded gravely. "You're picking up. Do you think they'd trust us with a coffin full of _dead_ Zixaan in there? If they were suspecting that we had any kind of medical equipment on us, the readings from the tricorder are going to be _dead_. Because there's no-one _in the coffin_."

It was a terrifying thought. Britannia stared at McCoy, her eyes wide and frightened. Her voice came out at little more than a whisper. "What have we got ourselves into here, Leonard?"

McCoy shook his head. "I'll know more once I can check the readings. If there's a body in that coffin, then there's nothing to worry about. If there isn't…"

His snowballing thoughts of doom were cut off by a voice from Britannia's communicator. _Wallcot to Dr. Charlotte. Come in, Britannia_.

"Charlotte here, what have you got for me Thomas?"

_What you asked for. I hacked the security network using your translations and changed the status on your passes._

Britannia looked over at Bones with a grin. "Told you he was good."

_That's not all though, Doctor. You'll have after-hours access so that if you __do__ want to do some, uh, __reconnaissance__, you'll be able to get into the building from the outside._

"Great work there, Wallcot. I owe you a drink or two when we get back."

_No problem. Wallcot out._

As the link to the _Arbitory_ closed, Bones afforded his companion with a gentle smile. "Y'know, I have a nasty feeling I underestimated you."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Britannia replied off-handedly. At McCoy's crest-fallen expression, she laughed. "Don't beat yourself up about it. I know you meant well. So, to the _Enterprise_, then? I'm _dying_ to see what she's like!"

With a sly grin playing on his full lips, Bones lifted his arm and tapped his communicator. "McCoy to _Enterprise. _Transporter bay, two to beam up."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer: **No, still don't own anything.

_Author's notes_: So this is a little longer than expected. That's okay, isn't it? You lot weren't bored? Course not. The mystery has just deepened! YAY!

_Author wishes to thank_: Big W, for stocking _The Search For Spock_! Hurrah! Also to my legion of followers, reviewers and friends who have been supporting _The Hyde Complex_. It means a lot to me that you've taken the time to check it out.

Special mention: eBay. Thank you for tell me it was COMMAND collection McCoy I'm missing! XD


	14. Chapter 14: Once Upon A Dream

Chapter Fourteen: Once Upon A Dream

The _Enterprise_'s sickbay was currently crewed by only a few personnel. This suited Bones as he was not, by nature, a people person. There were other medical bays on the ship, probably with a good deal more crew, but this was _his_ bay. The few staff who were present and conducting routine check-ups and minor repairs on injured officers kept their eyes averted as McCoy strode past on his way to his office. Britannia tried to make up for this blatant lack of manners by smiling at the crew and inquiring after their general health. By the time she had arrived in the office, Bones already had the readings from the tricorder under analysis by the ship's main computer.

"Does the captain know you treat the crew with a total disregard for their well-being?" Britannia quizzed him as he reclined in his chair. McCoy quirked an eyebrow at her.

"You're assuming Jim gives a _damn_ about what I do to _them_ when I'm not saving _his_ ass."

"He's the _captain_, Leonard. It's his job."

"This is Jim _Kirk_ we're talking about, right? You _do_ remember my buddy Jim?"

Britannia rolled her eyes at him. "Of course I remember Jim Kirk. We just walked out on him ten minutes ago."

"Then you'll remember him as the total, ego-centric bastard that runs this ship like his own damn personal amusement park."

"Which is why he's your best friend."

McCoy bit his lip thoughtfully. "Friend, yes, best... debatable. Jim is trouble and chaos wrapped up in starship and rank."

"Yup, best friend. Did you ever get the results back from the scans you took when Albera had those seizures?"

Bones almost, _almost_, smiled. "You know, I almost forgot about those," he replied, dragging a new window onto his viewer and pulling up the files. Britannia leaned over his shoulder and read the results.

"I _told_ you that the tricorder wasn't malfunctioning, didn't I? Those _were_ neuro-toxins in her systems... fatal levels, too."

"But what's causing them? More importantly, how did her body drain them?" McCoy asked rhetorically. Doctor Charlotte shrugged, frowning.

"No idea. I'd need to know how their systems work. It could be that its a natural biological function and that it serves a perfectly rational purpose."

McCoy snorted. "You sound like that pointy-eared hobgoblin. Logic this, rational that." He gave her a steady look. "How many times have you been faced something that can be _logically_ explained while working in the field, huh? How many times have you had a text-book case on a newly-found species?"

Britannia had to hand that point to him. She shook her head. "Fair enough. What about those readings from the casket? We could probably cross-reference them with the ones from Albera."

Bones' eyes darkened, like the sky before a storm. "You're assuming we've got a dead Zixaan in that coffin."

"Call me an optimist, then."

"You're still an optimist after spending all this time without a proper captain and only a skeleton crew to keep you alive?"

Britannia shrugged nonchalantly. "It's better than what I would have had to face if we got back. At least we didn't get involved with the Nero fiasco."

Re-opening the window that was processing the results from the tricorder, McCoy pursed his lips and blew out a petulant sigh. "Can't say it was rosy being in the thick of it. Got promoted a hell of a lot faster than I expected. Also got stuck with mass triage."

"But...?"

"But it was good experience. I learned a lot about operating under pressure."

"How many did you lose?" For a moment, silence reigned over the office. Realising she'd hit a touchy subject with Bones, Britannia turned away and dropped her chin to her chest. "I-I'm sorry. That was out of line..."

"Vulcan lost over five billion inhabitants. The _Enterprise_ lost six hundred and eighty two... people I _studied_ with, dammit. That's how many I lost."

"Oh my..." Charlotte began, turning back to him, but McCoy's face had hardened. His lips were but a thin line on his face, a guarded and haunted expression on his face. It was the first time she'd ever seen the physician look so broken and distraught. She'd seen the same look on so many surgeons' faces when they'd been desperate to save someone, only to have the patient die in front of them. Reaching over, Britannia patted Bones' hand gently. "I lost an Ensign two months ago. His name was Uther... like that Arthurian Earth legend, y'know? He was the first one I lost."

"What specialty?" McCoy rasped, surprised to hear the words from his own throat, since he had felt sure it was too dry to speak. Britannia blinked, holding back the threat of tears and laughed, shaking her head in disbelief and regret.

"Uther was on security detail. Wasn't even a red-shirt... those guys down in Engineering are _always_ in medical. Anyway, he accompanied the science officer and a botanist down to a planet. Turned out that the flora down there were particularly violent towards bipedal races. He... god, he... threw himself in the way to protect the science officer from a volley of poisonous spines fired by this... cactus thing. Hit him hard all over the front of his uniform."

Bones swallowed uncomfortably. It was never easy talking to another doctor about the loss of their first patient. "Go on."

"So I had the transporter room beam him into the containment suite, maximum decontamination. What I didn't realise is that the decontamination would remove the spines embedded in his chest. He showed up with blood spurting from about nineteen different places, two from major arteries. Worst part is that I can't get his blood to clot. The poison had some kind of anti-coagulant in it. So I had... three... four, maybe, I can't be sure... but there was a whole medical team around him as he thrashed about - screaming in pain - and I end up working desperately on an antidote for the poison but the composition keeps mutating in the presence of human blood and I didn't have a pure sample. All we could do was plug up the holes and hold our breath."

McCoy felt his throat thicken as Britannia's face drained of colour, the memory a bitter taste in her mouth. "He bled out?"

"In twenty-five minutes flat. We couldn't stop the blood through the sealants and bandages, it just kept leaking out like oil. For weeks I couldn't get the frightened look in his eyes out of my head."

"How did you learn his name?"

"Filling out the death certificate. He had a friend... another security officer, who came in to get his things. Told me about him."

"You didn't look at his file?"

"I... couldn't. One of the nurses had to sedate me, I was in shock and had started to scream. Christ, Leonard, I'm twenty-four... they dumped me on that ship without any kind of warning. One minute I'm studying, next minute Starfleet has lost most of its graduating class in the Vulcan genocide and they pull all available senior medical officers in to patch up what was left. Most of the interns were shipped out on peace-keeping missions the following day."

"You were sent to the _Arbitory_, then."

"To replace their CMO until she got back. Apparently the Academy high-ups are impressed that anyone would want to take you on in a medical debate."

Bones crooked the corner of his mouth at this. "You always were one to pick a fight."

"Something I got in common with your captain, I hear. Don't worry, Lucian's told me _everything_. Right after I told him that I knew you and Jim back at the Academy. I was a bit vague on the details, so don't fret."

McCoy chuckled and realised with sudden clarity that he hadn't sat down and just _talked_ with another doctor in too long. The long nights filled with familiar faces in the last moments of their life surfaced and the tension popped like a soap bubble. She _knew_ what it was like. She'd watched a man bled to death from nineteen point in his body – something that he knew would keep _him_ awake. How she had managed to deal with it...

In an awful moment, he realised the truth. The way she had worked through everything that had happened between them, with the problems she'd had to deal with on the _Arbitory_. "You ran away from everything, didn't you? It's what you always do, how you handle things you have no control over. But when you couldn't run away from Uther, from that dead boy you couldn't save... you blanked out."

He watched Britannia swallow hard and look away. She appeared broken, her eyes blank and numb-looking. "I can't fix everything... but I try. We do this to ourselves, don't we? We set ourselves up for that gaping maw to pull us in."

McCoy reached over and pulled her to him. Almost instinctively, Britannia curled up against him, not kissing or touching, just resting the crown of her head in the crook of his neck while her ear pressed to his chest and listened to the steady heartbeat as he stroked her hair. "Brit, we're doctors, not omnipotent deities. We win some, we lose some."

"You know, strangely enough, I seem to remember you using that line on me back at the Academy. Only I wasn't curled up on your lap at the time."

"Oh? Where were you?"

"Shouting at you from the other side of the room."

The chuckled vibrated in his chest and Britannia smiled lazily. "I was so angry at you back then. Why didn't you ever study?"

"Because I enjoyed making you cranky beyond belief, mostly. You were cantankerous enough hanging around Jim that I wanted the challenge of really ticking you off. That and I was lucky enough to get by on natural talent and aptitude for the area. That's all I really wanted."

"What, to be ordinary?"

"Is there anything wrong with that? Starfleet can't be crewed exclusively by geniuses, you know. For some of us, this really is just a job."

Neither of them said a word after that for nearly ten minutes, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. It wasn't until the reading popped up that either of them shifted. It was Bones who spoke first, his eyes wide in horror and face pallid. "Oh... my... god. I didn't think...."

"What?" Britannia asked, sitting up and moving away so she could read the screen. McCoy pointed.

"I was right... there's no body in the casket."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own Bones. Pity.

_Author's Notes_:

Well, dear readers, I finally nutted this chapter out after slugging out the last bit of my uni assignments and what HELL they were! Britannia is less of a witch-queen from hell now we know a bit more about why she's so scared all the time and Uther... well, he was a surprise. Probably a _tiny_ bit inspired from _The Captain and the Doctor_ LJ community. Damn they have some good stuff! Also, I apologise if the next few chapters come in fits and starts. I've been told my cat has only days to live, thanks to a tumor in her mouth. She's 13. So...

_The Author would like to dedicate this chapter to_:

Nala, my lovely grey tabby, who has made me feel what Britannia went through with Uther. Apparently, I can't fix everything either. I'm gonna miss you, Princess. At least I have this weekend left with you.


	15. Chapter 15: Board of Governors

Chapter Fifteen: Board of Governors

_McCoy to Kirk... Jim, are you there?_

The communicator crackled to life on the captain's belt as he walked alone through the empty streets of the city. He'd sent Spock with Malbrook's crew to the parliamentary hall to pay his respects, but Jim had never handled death well, even though he hadn't known the guy for very long. Hell, he'd only met the politician yesterday. Even so... he needed time to clear his head. Lost in his own thoughts, he ignored the tinny voice at his hip. The communicator crackled again.

_Dammit Jim! Answer me!_

The second shout dragged him back to the present. Parking himself under a twisted old tree that was gently swaying in the breeze, Kirk grabbed the communicator and flipped it open. "I'm here. What have you got for me?"

_You're not gonna like it. Hell, __I__ didn't like it._

"That's nothing new, Bones. There's very little this side of Sol that you _do_ like."

_That's not very goddamn funny._

Jim chuckled and shook his head. "Never mind. What did you find?"

_It's more of a case of what we __didn't__ find. I was right, there's no cadaver in that casket. Its all just a ruse to throw us off the scent. I don't like what's going on here, Jim. We need answers. Where are you?_

Kirk looked up at his surroundings. It was a street on the outskirts; dry and paved with trees dotting the footpath. He knew the general way back but couldn't remember exactly where he was. "Not where I'm supposed to be. Why?"

_You need to talk to Albera. She knows what's going on and for God's sake man, __make__ her tell you! Flirt with her or something. We need to know what's going on._

"Is Doctor Charlotte there with you?"

There was a pause before transmission continued and for Bones this was significant, Jim noted to himself. _She's here. She's working on possible theories for the use of the neuro-toxins in Albera's body and what kind of system would be required to drain it._

"Is she having any luck?"

_Jim... __neuro-toxins__. These aren't your normal, everyday, run-of-the-mill poisons. These bastards kill brain cells faster than Scotty's swill that he cooks up in that still of his. Only difference is, that stuff will only give you alcohol poisoning and a hangover. This stuff should kill you in under ten minutes._

Kirk gave a low whistle. "_Not_ friendly and definitely not good for a night out. What are you going to do?"

_I'm__ going to find out if there's a naturally-occurring or synthetically available compound that can neutralise those toxins. Then we're going to the Arbitory to get the upgraded passes from Ensign Wallcot. If you can buy us enough time, we're going in tonight to figure out what the __hell__ is going on in that hospital._

"Depends. How much time are you looking for?"

_Enough time to get in and out without being caught. Doctor Charlotte is leaving a copy of her linguistic research for Spock on the Enterprise. We'll need tonight_.

Kirk blew out a long, thoughtful sigh. Explaining the absence of one of the medics would be difficult enough, but both? He shook his head, hoping that his CMO knew what he was doing. "I'll see what I can do."

_Thanks, Jim. I'll let you know when we're done. McCoy out._

The communicator disconnected with a crackle of static. Kirk stared at the transmitter in silence for a few moments. He was used to McCoy's abrupt closures by now, so that wasn't bothering him. He also knew that his best friend was big enough to look after himself and was a highly capable officer. What worried him was that this time he wasn't only risking the safety of his own crew. Doctor Charlotte was mixed up in this medical and political intrigue and damn if he knew what he was going to tell Albera. He smiled wanly to himself. The truth was an option. She'd never believe him, anyway.

Taking the path he'd used to get to the outskirts back towards the city centre, Kirk mused over McCoy's reactions in the wake of Doctor Charlotte's presence. He'd never seen Bones in such an agitated state and he'd known the man since day one of their academy studies. No... he had seen it once before, but it was a little more subdued. Thinking back over the details, Jim placed it as just before Nero's attack on Vulcan... perhaps six months or so.

In truth, their entire final _year_ hadn't been a bucket of Hadlian peaches. Bones was nearly always absent from the dorm; either at the campus hospital, sewing wayward engineering fools back together, in class or tutoring. Jim himself had rarely ever been in, either; only running into his best friend in between classes and at simulations (he remembered the _Kobayashi Maru_ with a fond smile) or possibly at one of the few classes they arranged to share. This was usually after the tutoring, which always seemed to leave McCoy in a foul mood, something not uncommon to the irascible doc, but definitely more pronounced on these occasions.

Kirk had often wondered if this was the reason why his CMO had never formally trained himself up in tactical. Bones had a surgeon's focus, after all, which set him in brilliant store for being cool and calm in a crisis. But he was a doctor in his heart and in his soul, something that not even his ex-wife could have been able to steal away from him. So as brilliant as McCoy was in that position – the very reason Jim had insisted he be present during his _Kobayashi Maru_ tests – he was resigned that the man would only ever heed the call of the scalpel, his aviaphobia notwithstanding.

The captain of the _Enterprise_ turned onto the main thoroughfare of the capital and trudged slowly in the direction of the hulking building that housed the halls of Parliament. The tutoring... if he was right, it had all started there. It was his fault, mostly. When Bones had received the letter from Starfleet, offering him extra credit for teaching and the chance to graduate early, it had been Jim who had encouraged him to take them up on it. Three days later, he'd been privy to one of the few times they would be in their dorm room at the same time. That day hadn't been a good one. Bones had stormed in, muttering in a low, continuous growl about _that cheating, conniving, snake-tongued excuse of a female cadet,_ marched right over to his stash of bourbon and proceeded to get tanked. Kirk had never been able to elicit the name of that cadet from his friend, or the reason she had driven him to the bottle, but he now had a pretty good idea who it might have been.

The few Zixaans out and about on the streets nodded their greetings to the high-ranking Federation ambassador. Kirk smiled weakly and returned the sentiment as he trundled past. He could have sworn he'd seen a girl like Doctor Charlotte, perhaps a little thinner and with shorter hair, harassing the same bars he did during his studies. Usually, on nights like those, Bones would be holed up in their room, head bent over a PADD and studying some new and creative biological way of sending your spleen exploding six ways to Sunday. The likelihood of McCoy running into Charlotte _at all_ at a bar had to be...

He stopped. The thought had hit him like the falling wreckage of an exploding fuel freighter. It would _have_ to be, wouldn't it? The _one_ day that Bones decides that the world still hates him and that he has nothing left to live for, disappearing for a night to a seedy civilian bar to acquaint himself with the bottom of a bottle of whiskey... or bourbon... or Saurian brandy... or whatever his chosen poison that night would be.

The anniversary of his divorce.

The scuffing of his boots on the pavement punctuated Jim's thoughts as he continued on his way. Typical. The one night Bones doesn't want him nearby – not that the sour doctor hadn't tried escaping Kirk's delinquent ways before, to little effect – he manages to wind up in bed with a cadet younger than the pair of them and proceeds to completely ruin any professional relationship he may have been trying to foster with her.

Of course, this was all conjecture. He couldn't _prove_ any of it, well, save for the parts he was actually _there_ for. Kirk also knew that bringing this up with Bones while he was working for the sake of the ships and the Federation was _not_ an intelligent plan. If there was something he knew about his oldest friend, it was that McCoy's intelligence was like an ancient steam train – fast and powerful, but tended to run on pre-laid tracks and got derailed by obstruction. No, best that he let Bones figure this one out on his own.

He arrived at the entrance of the halls and was bowed through by two tall Zixaans clad in what could only be described as dark, elaborately embroidered mourning robes. Jim barely recognised their presence as he wandered aimlessly on a predetermined route through the building. Still, the doctor's recent reports as to the strange goings-on chilled him to the bone and he was focused on getting the truth from their host.

The large doors just ahead to his left burst open and spat out a harassed-looking senator. Kirk dragged himself out of his self-centered musings long enough to realise that it was Albera in front of him, slightly wild-eyed. She shot a flustered look at the wayward captain. "Where _have_ you _been_?"

Lost for words, but only for a moment, Jim scratched the back of his neck. "Ascertaining the whereabouts of my chief medical officer?" The sentence came out as a bit of an excuse, he realised, as if he were back at school and his teacher was asking why he was late to class. Albera shook her head violently and grabbed his wrist.

"Never mind. We must work quickly... the senate is in a terrible state and threatens to over-throw the Chancellor's decision to join the Federation. For some reason, they think _you_ and your crew have something to do with his death."

"What? That's _insane_! We weren't even _there_ when it happened!"

"No, but your medics _were_."

The tension that hung between them could have been harvested and made into blankets for the Vulcans on Delta Vega. Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting that my CMO or perhaps Doctor Charlotte had something to do with the Vice Chancellor's _death_?"

"Of course not. The senate _are_. They have drawn the conclusion that since Doctors McCoy and Charlotte were there, they _must_ have had something to do with his demise."

"But he died later last night! Those two were with us when the news came in..."

"They had only _just_ arrived though, am I correct?"

Kirk bit his lip, seriously worried where this circumstantial evidence was pointing. "They had no idea where he was. Most of the hospital was inaccessible," he deadpanned. The senator nodded.

"But there are reports that Doctor Morgon had to attend to the emergency with the Vice-Chancellor, leaving the two Federation physicians alone."

_Ah. Damn._ "And they think Bones and Charlotte sabotaged the procedures?"

Albera gave him a quizzical look, but nodded gravely. "Yes. If we don't do something soon, its likely that the senate will incite a war against the Federation on the grounds of political assassination."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:**

Look, I'll call when I do own them, okay? XD There is also a line from _The Search for Spock_. Finders get a grin if they mention it in their review. ^_^

_Author's notes_:

Okay, so my darling Nala has finally gone to be a kitty angel. She is sorely missed. This is a Kirk-centric chapter, is it not? But the inferred back-story was fun to write. Plus I wanted to work with Kirk * snerks at rhyming *. I know my Kirk is a little more grown-up, but this _is_ post-Nero. He's had to grow up fast, but that doesn't mean he isn't fun anymore.

_The Author would like to thank_:

Our new followers, for showing their support. We're almost at SIXTY! I'm so happy that you all enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it for you.

Elton John, for providing the song _Written In The Stars_. Surprisingly addictive...

St. Valentine and Gracy Vengeance. For being awesome

And everyone who expressed their sadness over the loss of Nala. Thank you.


	16. Chapter 16: No One Must Ever Know

Chapter Sixteen: No-One Must Ever Know

The crew gathered on the ground floor of the senator's villa two hours after Albera's shock announcement had nary a smile or smirk to share between them. Anyone who hadn't been privy to the events of the past twenty-four hours would have though that they had just been to a funeral.

They would not be far off the mark.

Spock, ever the slave to logic, paced slowly and evenly in front of them, hand locked neatly behind his straight back. McCoy and Charlotte, having beamed back from the _Enterprise _merely minutes earlier, exchanged incredulous looks along the lines of I-can't-believe-he-thinks-this-is-our-fault, but managed to plaster petulance and remorse on their faces by the time the first officer had faced them. "This cannot be your fault. As Starfleet... as _medical_ officers, you know the implications if they try conclusively to prove you were the cause of death." The statement wasn't angry or worried. It was merely a review of the facts before them, McCoy realised. Kirk had folded his arms across his chest and was watching them carefully.

"Bones... I know you aren't involved..."

"Doctor Charlotte isn't, either! Dammit, Jim, I've been with her the whole time and you _know _that!!" McCoy thundered a little too sharply. Britannia winced and cast a pleading look at Captain Malbrook. Lucian nodded and breathed a sigh of defeat.

"No-one is insinuating that she is, Doctor McCoy. But the fact remains that there is a time-frame where no-one can account for your whereabouts."

"There's no way we could use our own crew as alibis... the parliament could accuse Starfleet of covering for its own officers," Britannia mused. Spock nodded.

"That is logical, Doctor. What we need is evidence that the Vice Chancellor died by methods unknown to us."

"We'd need to do an autopsy on the body and they won't let us anywhere _near_ the corpse," Bones grumbled. Lucian cast a sly glance at Britannia, who grinned wickedly back.

"Don't worry, I've already spoken to Wallcot. He's got us what we'll need."

Spock raised an eyebrow and was most probably going to ask about this cryptic conversation, but was halted in his quest for enlightenment by a hand pressed firmly to his chest. He met the icy-blue, measured gaze of his captain. "Spock," Jim said slowly and quietly, "I think it might be better if we _don't _know what that means. Plausible deniablitity and all that."

Whatever protest had been in the first officer's throat died with Lucian's approval of the younger captain's motion. "He's right, Mister Spock. If we don't know, there's no way they can drag it out of us by nefarious means."

"I am unfamiliar with the _nefarious_ means to which you seem to be alluding to, Captain," Spock replied, curiosity lacing his voice. Lucian gave him an incredulous look, then turned to Jim.

"Is he serious?"

"Unfortunately, _all the time_," Kirk mock-moaned, rubbing the side of his face and rolling his eyes. Lucian suppressed a chuckle as Bones rolled his eyes and Britannia gave Kirk a small grin. Jim responded with a wink, which earned him a scowl from his CMO. Malbrook's security personnel gave each other sufficiently confused looks. Spock cleared his throat, rethinking the direction of conversation and addressing Kirk.

"Captain, by whatever means Doctors McCoy and Charlotte are planning to acquire the evidence to exonerate themselves, they will need a cover story. Federation officers do not simply vanish from missions unexpectedly."

Kirk nodded gravely, then turned his attention to McCoy. "Bones, walk with me," he said quietly. Too stunned to retort in any fitting way to this blatantly mature act, Leonard mutely followed his commanding officer and friend out of the room and on to the balcony where Jim had engaged in a conversation with Spock only the previous night. "Bones... listen. I know you don't want anyone finding out about you and that girl from the _Arbitory_, but do you really think we're all stupid enough not to notice the way you look at her? Like she's a flask of Altair Water and you've been wandering the desert for years?"

"Are you _insane_, Jim? Have you actually _lost_ the plot this time? I haven't _touched_ her!" McCoy exploded, mindful of the group only metres away and the subtle gravity of the half-lie. Kirk waved him silent.

"I believe you, but I think we can work your little attraction to our advantage."

McCoy glowered darkly at him. "This had _better_ be good or I _swear_ I'm going back to the _Enterprise_ right _now_ and you can get _Chapel_ to deal with this disaster," he growled.

"Just bear with me, alright? Now I _know_ she was at the academy with us -"

"Jim, don't you _dare_..."

"Shut up and let me finish. Suppose we tell Albera and the Chancellor that you two are old flames – a harmless fib, that's all – and that seeing each other here has convinced you two to give your relationship another go?"

McCoy snorted. It was obvious his friend didn't know how many hallmarks that story had of the actual truth. "So where will you tell them we are?"

Kirk grinned lecherously. "Why, reigniting your passion in the privacy of your personal quarters on the _Enterprise_, of course."

The doctor swatted his captain lightly on the arm. "Jim, I'm a doctor, not Casanova. I'm not the kind of man who beds a woman right after he meets her. That's _you_, my friend."

Jim chuckled and stuck McCoy with a rather angelic look, which was received with an arched eyebrow in disbelief. "_They_ don't know that, do they?"

"Then why don't _you_ pretend to be her... _whatever_ it is you want to tag me as?"

Kirk shrugged, slightly disappointed. "They'll never believe me. I've been with the senator and Malbrook the whole time. Doctor Charlotte and I have barely said boo to each other since yesterday."

"Which I must admit has been quite the surprise, Jim. Here I was thinking you bedded anything that moves."

"Not _everything_, Bones. For one thing, you wouldn't have me," Kirk retorted playfully and was rewarded with another smack to the arm. "Now, is that any way to treat a superior officer, Doctor McCoy?"

"You over-sexed _moron_. This isn't the academy."

"That part is painfully obvious."

McCoy grabbed Jim by the shoulders and hissed in his face. "_Listen_ to me, Jim. There are things I can't tell you, things I _won't _tell you, even though you are my captain. What you're going to have to work through is how much you trust me and if that trust extends to saving my career."

Kirk met the doctor's level gaze and saw past the professional demeanor and was met with the sheer terror that this new life of his, the only real thing he had held onto for years since his divorce, was teetering on the brink of collapse. This was a rude awakening for the young captain, seeing his best friend like this. He struggled to find the words. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologise to me. Don't show them weakness," Bones said flatly, the walls he had carefully constructed in his mind to keep other people out sliding back into place. Kirk looked at him in surprise as he continued. "Jim, I'm not happy with this, but I know Doctor Charlotte will agree, just because I've said that I don't want to."

A smile touched Kirk's eyes. "Sounds like my type of woman."

"Don't. Anyway, she wouldn't be interested. Unlike you, she has taste."

"Your words wound me, Bones," Kirk quipped, laying a hand dramatically over his heart. McCoy afforded his friend a low chuckle and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on, they'll be wondering what we've been up to."

The two Starfleet officers returned to the assembled crew, most of whom had draped themselves on various pieces of furniture. Britannia was wedged between Lieutenant Grey and Lieutenant-Commander Epson on a small sofa, chewing vacantly on her right thumb. At the movement in the doorway, she looked up and scanned both officers' faces in interest. "Well?"

Bones swallowed uncomfortably as Kirk tried on his most charming grin. "No worries. Doctor McCoy and I have concocted a plan... of sorts."

Spock raised an eyebrow from his position leaning against a teak bookcase. "Captain?"

"Spock... it relates to what we discussed last night," Jim snapped out, noticing the dark look his CMO was giving him. "Really, Bones. I'll explain later. You'll thank me one day."

"I believe that, God-so-help-me, but under any other circumstances I'd doubt it," McCoy drawled sarcastically. Kirk smiled with emotive eyes as he watched the corner of Doctor Charlotte's quirk upwards at the older man's southern accent. The thought crossed his mind that even _if_ Bones was telling the truth, that he had never touched the girl, she had _more_ than likely had thoughts about touching _him_. Strangely enough, Kirk wasn't jealous, which was even a surprise to him. He knew, on some primal level – possibly something predetermined by his promiscuous days of the recent past – that the idea of a young woman preferring his chief medical officer over him led to him believing that said broad had clearly fallen out of the sanity tree. But this time... no. This must be what maturity felt like, he snorted to himself.

Lucian stood up from the soft armchair he had been lounging in and came to a halt at Kirk's side. "So... what are we going to tell the senate?"

"We'll tell them the truth – our medical officers weren't involved with the assassination and that we're willing to let them have full access to their records of their whereabouts," Kirk said slowly. His blue orbs swiveled slowly to McCoy, who breathed out a reserved sigh. He knew what was expected of him.

"Dammit Jim," he cursed softly. The captain gave him a warning look, which the doctor took meaningfully. Bones closed the distance between himself and Britannia, then reached down to grip her wrist gently and haul her carefully to her feet. "C'mon. There's somewhere we need to be."

Unable to formulate a proper response or argument to contradict his statement, Britannia allowed herself to be led out of the room. Once the front door of the villa had swung shut behind them, she put her confusion into words. "Where?"

McCoy didn't turn around. "Away from here," he replied gruffly.

"That's not an answer, Leonard."

"Let me put it this way, then; when the proverbial faeces hits the cooling unit, we don't want to be anywhere _near_ here."

"What have you _done_?"

"Brit, this time it is _not _my fault. Jim... he's a cluey-kinda guy. He made some inferences and... came up with a plausible cover story for us being absent to buy us time tonight."

"I don't like where this is headed, but go on."

"He... he's going to tell the Chancellor that we're on the _Enterprise_." Silence. "Alone. Together." Still no response. "Uh... getting _reacquainted_. Intimately."

"_What_?" _That_ seemed to get a rise out of her, Bones thought bitterly as his companion stared at him incredulously. "He's telling them we're up there... having _sex_?"

"That's Jim for you. Everything seems to come back to sex," McCoy noted blandly, watching the potential time-bomb simmer like a pot on the stove.

Surprisingly, though, after a moment Britannia simply shrugged indifferently. "Oh well. It buys us time. It's not like it happens to be the _truth_ after all."

Leonard gave her a shocked look. "Are... are you serious? This doesn't bother you?"

"Nope. Listen, it buys us enough time to do our jobs, so I can't hate it. If I did, that would make me a bad doctor, would it not?"

"_Please_ stop being logical. I already have to deal with _one _green-blooded hobgoblin onboard my ship, I don't need you to devolve into something that has no emotions."

"_Your_ ship? Since when did the _Enterprise_ become _your_ ship?" Britannia queried as McCoy slapped his communicator.

"McCoy to _Enterprise_. Two to – aw hell, I hate this – beam up."

_Enterprise confirms, Doctor McCoy. Stand by to energise._

McCoy looked over at Britannia and treated her to rare, bright smile. "Oh, she's _mine_, alright. Jim only _thinks_ he owns her. But I'm the one who keeps the blood flowing through her veins. Without the crew, _Enterprise_ would just be a metal husk."

As they dematerialised, Britannia couldn't help thinking that truer words had naught been spoken.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: Yeah, same as all the others.

_Author's notes_: Okay, where to start. First of all, thanks for being so patient with me. I'm feeling much better. I should also mention that I've started beta-reading, so if you're interested in my reading/editing skills, please feel free to PM me with a request. This chapter is more of a filler and more of Kirk, which was nice. I enjoy getting into other people's heads.

_The Author would like to thank_: The sixty-three of you following _The Hyde Complex_ and to everyone who submitted reviews. I'd also like to thank the two communities this story has been archived to. Be under no false pretenses – this all means a lot that you all enjoy this. Thank you all so much.


	17. Chapter 17: Sympathy, Tenderness

Chapter Seventeen: Sympathy, Tenderness

For the third time in a very short time frame, Commander Spock found himself facing down the steely gaze of Zixaan IVs Chancellor. The difference this time was that he was alone in the presence of the old man, in an empty and recently vacated senate, with only his captain's orders to back him up. The elder politician took in the Vulcan and sighed. "They sent you because they're hoping we can find some common ground, since we are both not human, am I correct?"

"Indeed, Chancellor. The Captain has expressed his confusion to me and has requested that, as First Officer, I inform you of his total compliance with any course of investigation you deem necessary to determine Doctors McCoy and Charlotte's possible involvement with the death of the Vice Chancellor."

The Chancellor nodded sagely, folding his arms. "And in between all that politics, what you are trying to say is that you need more time to be able to conclusively prove your medics' innocence."

The half-Vulcan raised an eyebrow and tilted his head forward, acknowledging the older alien's perception. "You are... observant, Chancellor."

The Chancellor chuckled – a deep, throaty sound. "I wouldn't be the Chancellor if I wasn't. Come, keep me company."

The two wandered companionably through the darkened and lifeless halls of Parliament and Spock found himself at ease with the diplomat as they talked science and logic, quantum physics and interstellar cartography. Upon reaching the large doors that led outside of the building, the Chancellor turned to Spock. "You know, there was a time when people called me by my first name."

The _Enterprise_'s First Officer merely cast his eyes downward in thought. "Your current status requires a more formal approach, Chancellor."

The elder smiled wryly. "Ah, yes... but eventually, one begins to forget that they exist outside of 'Chancellor'. You must know, I'm only doing what I believe is right for my people."

"As any good leader should do. Chancellor, I fail to determine what you are trying to establish with this direction of conversation?"

"Mister Spock, right now I'd like you to imagine that you are not on diplomatic duty and I am not entrusted with the future of my people. For once, I would like someone to address me by my _real_name." The silence he was met with from the Vulcan caused the Zixaan to sigh sadly. "It's Raoun"

"Fascinating..." Spock said quietly, an observation to himself more than anything else, but not so enough that it could be misinterpreted if the Chancellor should hear it, which he did.

"You find my name interesting, Mister Spock?"

"I find it fascinating that you seek companionship outside your species to – if I understand correctly – discard the mantle of leadership."

"Not discard, Mister Spock... never discard. You do not simply leave behind the ideals that you hold dearest and utilise to protect your people. No, just... turned inside out, because underneath the ideals is the being that holds it all up."

"Indeed," Spock replied distantly, casting his mind back to the aging Vulcan with whom he had a _lot_ in common, currently stationed on Delta Vega. "I believe I understand your logic."

The Chancellor gave him a weary smile. "It's not logic, Commander, merely the way things are."

"Surely that makes it logic?"

"There are a great many things we don't understand, yet are. Is it therefore able to be deduced that these are all logical too?" Spock fell silent as he contemplated possible answers to this question. As he did so, the Chancellor nodded. "As I thought. Not even the Federation has knowledge of everything."

"This is why the Federation exists, Chancellor – to seek out that knowledge."

"Did you ever stop to think that there is some knowledge not meant to be sought?"

Spock brindled slightly, the insatiable curiosity that drove him to learn more about the worlds around him sparking in his mind like electricity. "I think that it is up to the individual to make that decision."

* * *

The CMO quarters on the _Arbitory _were small, mostly quite comfortable and reasonably roomy in comparison to the crew quarters elsewhere on the ship. In Britannia's mind, she knew she should have realised that the personal quarters of the Chief Medical Officer onboard the fleet's flagship would be considerably more impressive that her meagre allotment of a bedroom, desk space and kitchenette complete with personal replicator.

What she wasn't prepared for was the warm, earth-toned suite with a sectioned-off bed chamber and study area with its own sitting area, proper _kitchen_ (with the addition of a replicator for the particularly lazy) and bar. _He has his own __bar__?!_ Britannia thought numbly as she stood gaping at the plush surroundings while McCoy headed for the bedroom. "_Damn_. They sure treat you right on a flagship. This room is _insane_," she commented, dropping into one of the two couches that sat on an angle to a round, clear perspex coffee table.

The low rumble of a laugh emanated from the bedroom. "Only if you're an officer. You should see the living quarters some of the ensigns are assigned to... although I'm not totally convinced that most of the mess is Starfleet's lack of design foresight," the CMO's voice carried from the enclosed space. Britannia raised an eyebrow and chuckled, shaking her head as Leonard rejoined her in the sitting area. He had divested himself of his Starfleet blues and boots and reclined comfortably across from her on the other couch; dressed only in his black undershirt, pants and a lazy smile. "So."

"So?"

"We need a plan for tonight."

"You mean apart from get in, get out and stay alive in the process, right?"

"Yeah, something a little more detailed would be nice."

Britannia folded her arms and blew out a petulant breath through pursed lips. "Not sure what else we have, really."

McCoy clasped his broad hands behind his head. "We have complete access to all levels, but we are also sneaking into a facility that is active at all times."

His younger counterpart considered the available information carefully. "If its anything like Earth, there'll be a shift change some time later tonight."

"That's _if_ its anything like Earth. Everything that we've seen so far has indicated that we're nowhere _near_ Kansas anymore, Dorothy."

"Ha ha, you're hilarious, Leonard. I think it might be time for you to give up your Starfleet medical career and take up comedy full-time."

The _Enterprise_'s CMO afforded her an angelic look. "I aim to please."

Britannia frowned. "You should be aiming to formulate a plan."

"Simple. We use the security passes Wallcot modified to gain access to the hospital roster. You'll be able to translate -"

"- barely -"

"- and we'll simply beam down when the coast is clear," Leonard summarised. Doctor Charlotte stared at him in amazement. It certainly appeared to be a simplistic plan.

"What about getting out?"

"Easy, same process. We deduce how much time we have before the next shift change, then factor the amount of time it will take us to access the lower floors. With any luck, we'll be out before the time is up."

"That's a lot of ground to cover in a few hours, Doctor McCoy," Britannia mused quietly. Leonard nodded soberly, all traces of mirth vanishing from his face.

"I'm not saying it won't be. But Jim and your Captain Malbrook are depending on the success of this endeavour. I'm sure you don't want to upset your captain, do you?" The question hung between the two doctors like a challenge... and it was Britannia who had been called to the arena. McCoy had age and experience on his side, not necessarily in Starfleet, but in general practice and life. On the other hand, he tended to think with his heart instead of his head, which often made him unpredictable. If Doctor Charlotte was, for lack of a better phrase, to balance the terms of their next encounter with the Zixaans, she would need every ounce of logic and rationality she could muster. She eyed him tentatively.

"Fine, we'll do it _your_ way. I'll have Thomas beam over with the passes immediately." She rose to leave the room, turning her back on McCoy. The elder doctor coughed ever-so-slightly to get her attention, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Uh, _Doctor_ Charlotte? Aren't you forgetting something?"

Well past her tolerance threshold for Leonard McCoy's blatant tomfoolery for the evening, it was several deep breaths later before Britannia was able to answer the senior officer without potentially strangling him and surgically removing his brain to locate his misplaced intelligence. "What is it _now_?"

"You can't seriously be considering transporting down to the planet surface dressed like _that_."

The younger doctor peered down at her standard-issue blue Starfleet bearing the insignia that denoted her as one of the medical personnel, black pants and sturdy boots made of a near-totally impenetrable polymer to protect her feet. In short she'd stand out as a Starfleet officer on any warp-capable planet in the galaxy. She conceded the point. "Alright, I need to change into something a little less identifiable. But I have no other clothes with me and I'm _not_ wearing yours. You'd probably like it."

McCoy barked out a short laugh. "No, we'd better not be wearing anything that can be used to trace us back to the landing party. There should be some old clothes of Jim's in my room. If you hide your hair under a baseball cap, there's a good chance we won't be identified as Federation doctors if we are caught."

There was a short pause from his companion before she continued. "Leonard... why do you have the captain's clothes in your room?"

A deep sigh from him was enough to tell Britannia that this was a story Doctor McCoy disliked telling other people on a regular basis. "Jim... isn't the most _retiring_ of sorts. On more than one occasion, I've had to drag his sorry ass back home, patch him up and send him off to class when we were at the Academy together. Keeping a fresh set of clothes at hand was in his best interests. I guess, in all the chaos following the _Enterprise_ shipping out so soon after Nero's attack, I must have packed up Jim's clothes with mine. I never got around to taking them back to him."

"Uh-huh," was the response, indicating that she might not have believed everything he said. Not that this mattered much to McCoy, since he knew it was the gods-honest truth. He'd long since given up on convincing people he was right when he knew he was. They all eventually came to the same conclusion he did, just more or less later on. He watched Britannia move towards his room with the carefully measured pace of someone retrieving a PADD from a starving lion's enclosure. "Where are they?"

"There's a set of drawers on the left side of the bed. Middle one should be empty save the clothes."

Escaping the observation of McCoy, Britannia slipped into his room and listened to the auto-door hiss shut behind her. Letting out a breath she didn't realise she was holding, she moved beside his neatly-made bed and knelt beside it. A quick rummage through produced a black and white plaid shirt, white singlet and jeans. Sizing them up, the young woman guessed pretty quickly that the _Enterprise_'s captain was a little longer in the leg – well, perhaps _considerably _longer in the leg – than she was and that the jeans would need to be rolled up. Not conducive to a fast exit should the need arise.

Placing the clothes on Leonard's bed and moving to stand up, that might have been the end of it. But a soft flash of light caught her eye as she moved... something hidden under the bed. Reaching down, she pulled the offending object free from its confines and turned it over in her hands, trying not to cry. She had no idea he would be so sentimental about losing her.

It was an empty bottle of whiskey. Not the bottle from that night oh-so-long ago, but one very similar, even the same brand. Britannia heard the door hiss behind her and didn't bother to turn around. There was no-one else it could have been.

"I've been through one of those on the anniversary of my divorce every year, by myself. That one... that one was the last time. But there was one bottle... one bottle I shared with someone else one year. That person told me a story about a brother who never lived to see her graduate, never heard her rise to the top of the debating lists, never saw her in action. So I promised myself that on my anniversary, I would first drink a toast to that man... because while I was sitting there, bemoaning that I was still alive, he wasn't able to do so."

McCoy's hand gently came to rest on Britannia's shoulder. He knew better than to ask her to turn and look at him, since he already knew what he'd see; eyes glassy with unshed tears, a flushed face and a determined will of steel to hold it all back. He squeezed gently.

"I think we need each other right now, Brit. I think we always have."

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: Yeah, don't own.

_Author's notes_: I know I promised to update more and faster, but I was on holiday. I'm hoping this extra-longer chapter makes up for it. If it doesn't, then I'll write more now I'm home. Promise. I'd like to thank Sharnay and Harlequin Sequins. I was blown away with the love I got from them. That's not to say that y'all aren't showing me the luuurve, but... damn. Those reviews were _amazing_. People, this is why I'm a happy Trekkie. That and... well... DeForest held me hostage. Happily, I was privy to 34 hours of TOS goodness. Hands up those of you who laughed when Spock was grinning like an idiot and yelled "JIM" when he thought the captain had died in the _Pon Farr_ episode. Yeah, I thought so.

Also, I know I've mentioned this in some of my thank you notes, but if you want up-to-the-minute updates on this story, I'm on twitter. You can find me as Phantomess. ^_^ Thank you all and see you next chapter!


	18. Chapter 18: Take Me As I Am

Chapter Eighteen: Take Me As I Am

When she was a small girl, Britannia had adored her brother. Anthony was bright and cheerful, always talking a-mile-a-minute and shared her unusual hair colouring. He was almost (but not quite) two years older than her and had been planning on joining Starfleet in the core of Engineers, since he had always been good with his hands. It was an ironic tragedy that Anthony had been fixing his car when the jack broke and the chassis fell on him, crushing him beneath. It had been a fourteen year old Britannia who had found her brother choking - his own blood filling his lungs – and unable to save him. The medics arrived quickly but were unable to revive the boy.

She didn't share the story with everyone, but the therapy sessions she had undertook as a requirement for the grief had been noted on her record when she had applied for Starfleet Academy. Her loss wasn't something she had allowed to interfere with how she practiced medicine. In fact, there was only one person she could remember telling freely what had happened to Anthony.

That person was squeezing her shoulder gently, as if he could empathise with her pain and to top it all off, he had just admitted that he toasted her dead sibling once a year on the day that he himself felt the draining despair of loss! It just didn't seem fair.

Her hand sneaked up to his and touched the fingers curled there gingerly, as if afraid they might jerk away. When the other hand stayed put, Britannia placed her own over his, holding it gently. McCoy clambered ungainly down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought Anthony up."

"No... no, it's fine... I'm being silly about it, y'know? I just haven't thought too much about it for a while. Starfleet mandates that I head to a counselor every six months or so to see how I'm coping, but then that's the same for any CMO, I guess."

"Brit..."

"Look, I'm fine, really. People lose their loved ones everyday. I mean, why should I be any different?"

McCoy heaved a sigh and dropped his chin to his chest. "Can I tell you something?"

"Not like I'm going anywhere," Britannia replied blandly. "Shoot."

"When we found out where Nero came from... most of the crew on the _Enterprise_ at some point hunted down Ambassador Spock and asked him about their... other selves."

"What about you?"

McCoy swallowed, hard. "He found me, unexpectedly. Frankly, I really didn't want to know about that other guy. He wasn't me."

"So... what happened?"

"I was drinking; y'know, that same bar we first... yeah. Knocking back the bourbon and hoping that it washed out the memory of watching people die thick and fast. Then this old Vulcan drops down beside me and reminisces about the McCoy he knew. Well, I told him _exactly_ what I thought."

"I bet the bourbon buoyed _that_ piece of courage along."

"Shut up and let me finish. He said he'd been expecting me to avoid him, but that he had to ask." A pause followed and Britannia wasn't sure if he was going to be able to continue for a moment. But McCoy pulled himself together and finished the story. "Apparently, the other me had... _has_ a little girl. Her name's Joanna." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

"What... what about you?" Britannia couldn't believe that the words passed her lips without taking the detour of going via her brain, but she had to know.

"No... my ex, she... we were always too busy for it. Never had time to settle down and have a rug-rat of my own, y'know? But Spock, he... he told me all about her. Became a doctor like her old man, she did..."

"Leonard, are you regretting you never had kids?"

McCoy shook his head. "No... God, no. But I wish I'd know her. Joanna. If she was half as beautiful as her mother was... damn, she would have been amazing."

Britannia leaned into his touch and rested her head on his shoulder. "For the record, I think you would have been a great dad."

There was silence for a moment as he cradled her against him, enjoying the soft pressure of having her close. "You know, I'm still wondering why you walked out of the bathroom."

Britannia chuckled, turning her face to bury it in his chest. "Really?"

"Yeah. For a moment, I thought..."

"You thought what?"

Suddenly, reality flooded back in and McCoy was left blinking. "Nothing. It doesn't matter." He made to move away, but Britannia held him firmly.

"You tell me, Leonard. You tell me and you tell me the God's honest truth. No more game-playing."

_This is it_, McCoy thought, his mouth dry. _No more running, no more ignoring those nagging feelings, no more pretending_. "I thought... only for a moment, mind you... I thought you were going to join me."

"In the shower?"

He nodded. "Yeah. In the shower."

Britannia screwed her mouth up and a smile tugged at the corners. "Would it surprise you to learn that I seriously considered it? That I actually wanted to shove you back under the faucet and just..." she trailed off, unable to articulate what she had really wanted from him. McCoy felt the shock wash over him, followed by genuine amusement. Brushing away the errant locks of hair that had tumbled over her forehead was a perfect excuse to cup her face in his broad palm as he lowered his head to look at her properly.

"Then why didn't you? You saw what you did... what you do to me."

"It wasn't the right time, Leonard. If we'd just had at it in the shower, do you think anything would have changed? I would have walked away from that feeling even _more_ like a moron for getting myself into that situation _again_."

"Why do you think that you were a moron for getting yourself into that situation in the first place? I can't have been _that_ bad, could I?" McCoy asked abruptly. Britannia chuckled and nuzzled his hand.

"No, you weren't. In fact, from what I can remember, you were pretty bloody good."

"Then what's the problem? Were you bad?" This remark was rewarded with a swipe to the arm that McCoy had been expecting, but still only just managed to dodge. "Kidding, kidding."

"For your information, I'm pretty sure _you_ weren't complaining. You were moaning loud enough to wake Jim up in the next room."

"I didn't think Jim _ever_ slept in his room. Most of the time, he was sleeping in someone else's bed and _not_ in the study-sleepover definition."

"No, I'm pretty sure he was there that night. I distinctly remember you tripping over _Hopkins and Firth's Advanced Xenoanatomy – Humanoids Vol. III_ and shushing me very loudly, before claiming that _I_ had to be very quiet, since Jim was in the other room and most likely asleep."

"Damn... I was _really_ drunk then. I'm so very sorry you had to see me like that."

"Oh... I dunno. You were rather wonderful drunk. That southern drawl of yours gets a _hell_ of a lot more pronounced. You should come with a warning sign around your neck: sexy while drunk."

"And... what about the rest of the time?" McCoy drawled on purpose, shifting his body to cover hers and rubbing their noses together. A pair of gentle hands caressed his chest through the soft blue fabric of his uniform. He was so close, he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. Britannia carefully pushed him up and gave him a cheeky smirk.

"The rest of the time, you're difficult to live with," she whispered, standing and walking out of the door. McCoy's mouth dropped open in indignation.

"That's not fair!"

"Might not be fair, McCoy, but we have a job to do. Get up off your ass and get moving."

Grumbling, the elder doctor clambered to his feet and trundled into the sitting area. As he passed her, Britannia smacked him sharply on the rear, causing his head to jerk around in shock. "What the _hell_ was that for?"

"You drawl in that ridiculously attractive southern accent - _on purpose -_ then you whine about 'fair'? Let's examine that, shall we?"

"Alright, _alright_... point taken. No more unauthorised drawling, _ma'am_."

"Excellent," Britannia beamed winningly, before reaching up and kissing him gently. McCoy was stunned briefly, then sank willingly down into the intimate gesture and grinning against her mouth. The young woman paused momentarily. "Why are _you_ so damn cheerful?"

"Oh, y'know, kissin' a beautiful woman, got her to admit she thought I was hot... I'd say that was pretty good reason to be in an upbeat mood."

"Mmmm," Britannia moved away. "Thomas is probably waiting for us by now."

"You'd better get changed then."

"Fine," she replied, marching off in the direction of the bedroom. Reaching the door-frame, she paused, holding the auto-door open. "Oh, by the way..."

"Yeah?" Leonard asked, hope edging the inquiry. His companion smiled angelically.

"I'm locking the door."

* * *

Ensign Thomas Wallcot had never seen a ship the size of the _Enterprise_, let alone beamed aboard one. The _Arbitory_ was impressive, but by the flagship's standard, she fell embarrassingly short. He was dutifully impressed and proceeded to let Scotty – who had been under strict instructions to monitor the impish crew member – know in every detail. The engineer, ego inflated by the praise of his ship, demonstrated the sophistication of the transporter controls. Wallcot couldn't help but wonder if the security protocols could withstand a little exploration of his own.

Thankfully for the _Enterprise_'s defenses, the ensign's curiosity was negated by the arrival of the civilian-clad doctors. Britannia smiled at her crew-mate. "Tom, you have no idea what kind of a life-saver you really are. Thanks for bringing the passes aboard."

"No problem..." Wallcot trailed off, sizing McCoy up and down. The well-built CMO crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

"What the hell is _your_ problem?"

"Sorry.. _sir_. You just seem, well, security would benefit from you on the team..."

McCoy felt himself bristling in indignation as Britannia stepped between them to head off the fight, holding out her hand to the ensign for the cards he clutched. "Tom," she hissed, "_Doctor_ Leonard McCoy is a respected member of the medical and academic community, both on the _Enterprise_ as CMO _and_ back at Starfleet HQ. You think you could show him a _tiny_ bit of respect?"

"Wait.. this is the guy who..." Wallcot struggled to get out, before Britannia had clamped a hand over his mouth and plucked the passes from his grip.

"Not one more word out of you, alright?"

"Mmph!"

McCoy raised an eyebrow at the scene unfolding in front of him. "Doctor Charlotte, I _don't_ think that your actions are becoming of a medical officer and _certainly_ not one onboard the _Enterprise. _Release the ensign, _if you please_."

Taking her hand away, Britannia glared at McCoy like a petulant teenager. Wallcot massaged his jaw, firmly aware that anything that she had said to him regarding the _Enterprise_'s CMO was to go no further than a whiskey shared in the _Arbitory_'s mess hall. He grinned apologetically. "Sorry, out of line, sir. Doctor Charlotte was right to reprimand me."

McCoy looked at him incredulously. "You're condoning that she assaulted a fellow officer?"

"I shouldn't have run off at the mouth, sir. She was in the right, if a little drastic."

"Right, now we've got that sorted out, I think its about time we headed planet-side," Britannia butted in, a little more cheerfully than she felt as she pressed one of the passes into Leonard's hand. Thomas was the closest thing she had to a friend outside of her and Lucian's odd relationship aboard the _Arbitory_. Now was not the time for her pal to pass on the dirty little secrets she had shared with him. "Can't waste time, what with the captains counting on us and all."

McCoy watched her as she ascended to the transporter pad, her arms swinging slightly. He cast a side-long look at Wallcot, who simply shrugged and rolled his eyes, which effectively communicated to him that the argument was over. Taking his place beside her, McCoy reached over and took her hand gently. "Let's get this over with, then," he breathed softly.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer:** If I were making money on this, it would be in the cinema, not on fanfiction.

_Author's Notes_:

So very sorry this took _forever_ to get up. I promised something sooner, didn't I? My apologies, friends. University has been my life-long adversary this week and I swear, in December I will be _happy_ to walk out with my degree in hand.

Thanks to you all who have been favouriting, following, alerting... we're getting quite a community now. How cute was the little confession? Be warned - its not going to stay this happy and cheerful for long! Moo ha ha!

So anyway, enjoy and I hope to have you all around for my next installment. For those of you interested, _Blank Slate_ is still available for perusal on LJ. Be warned, it will be slash.


	19. Chapter 19: No One Knows Who I Am

Chapter Nineteen: No One Knows Who I Am

It was a nice thought, really. Bones had been his best friend from the moment it had mattered, so to see him wrestling with the idea that this was potentially something he could fashion into his twisted view of a relationship meant that he wasn't showing the girls interested in him politely to the door. Jim Kirk smiled at this thought, pleased with his general ingenuity and with the likely happiness of his Chief Medical Officer.

"Jim, wipe that stupid grin off your face, you look like a moron." The voice cut sharply into his thoughts as Lucian clapped him on the shoulder, joining him on the second floor balcony. The pair had remained at the senator's villa as night had descended once more on the alien planet. Kirk shrugged noncommittally.

"Just thinking, that's all."

"That must hurt some. Need some ice on that overheated brain?"

"Oh, you're _sharp _tonight. What was it, the razors for breakfast?"

Lucian chuckled and looked out over the darkening vista. "You haven't changed at all, Kirk. Not really and not where it counts. That's something to be said about you, if nothing else."

"Gee, don't feel like you should _compliment_ me or anything."

"I mean it, Jim," Malbrook's tone changed and suddenly Kirk felt like he was standing next to Bones at his most morose, or at least Bones' father. Either way, the young hoodlum he had attended the Academy with had disappeared and an older, battle-weary captain stood in his place; hands folded neatly behind his back, spine straight and crinkled eyes staring blankly off into the distance. "I envied you when I heard you got the _Enterprise_. Didn't seem quite fair. But I don't think I would have traded with you. You saw Vulcan disappear, but that's different. You can set yourself apart from that. Seeing your captain die from metres away is traumatising. You can't... you can't just watch and say sorry. No-one should be made to see that."

Kirk felt distinctly unnerved by Lucian's vulnerability. The friend who had been Bones' replacement as wingman on the nights when he had flown solo was supposed to be more together than this. Jim wondered if that would be him in three years... or Spock. No, _never_ Spock; the Vulcan had even dealt with the death of his own _mother_ logically. Kirk touched his neck almost gingerly. Well... maybe not _completely_ logically. Bones, on the other hand... Bones took _everything_ to heart, as if each death was a personal insult hurled at him from the great beyond. The young captain could only guess at how his CMO would handle _his_ death. Losing crew was one thing, losing your captain was another. It was a matter of pride to the doctor. Jim wasn't just his captain, he was a close friend. Kirk smiled. God help the bastard who dared take the _Enterprise_'s captain out. An angry Vulcan and a half-mad CMO was not a sight to be faced on an empty stomach. "Lucian, I know it's been tough..."

"No, Jim, you really _don't_. Tough for you is dealing with one huge Romulan ship and having to rescue your captain. Tough for me is limping away from a skirmish with _no_ captain and a ship almost dead in the water, crew hysterical and every med-bay stacked high with corpses. We limped to a nearby star base... next to no personnel, life support barely sustainable... Jim, I almost lost _everyone_." His voice cracked as he spoke, an old fear passing over his face. In that instant, Jim felt the full three years his junior, almost as if he was standing in the presence of Admiral Pike.

"Lucian... man, I'm sorry..."

"It doesn't matter. Not really. I'm alive and here, right? I survived. Which means that we won. Humanity wins out... and all that. Still, I have something to be thankful for. I met Britannia."

A carefully neutral face covered Kirk's surprise. "You... met Britannia?"

Lucian nodded, a coy smile playing at the edge of his mouth. "When our CMO was recalled to deal with the displaced Vulcans, the Academy sent us Doctor Charlotte. I've never seen a cadet more scared in my life. She goes from being the medical faculty's champion ethical debater to stitching crew back up and dealing with alien anti-clotting agents."

"But there's more to it than that, isn't there?" Kirk deadpanned, certain that he wasn't going to like what came next. A blush coloured Malbrook's cheeks slightly.

"You... could say that. I was pretty messed up after the Klingon skirmish. Britannia personally supervised my recovery and we... we got pretty close."

Jim felt his stomach drop out. "You two are together, then?"

Lucian dropped his chin to his chest in something that looked like regret. "She ended it, not that long ago now. Every time we were together, it seemed like she had something else on her mind. I asked her once and she said that I reminded her of her brother, but I don't think it was that. No girl brings her brother into the bedroom... at least, none that Starfleet allow to become medical personnel."

_So there __was__ something between her and Bones..._ "You think there was someone else?"

"Yeah, if I had to guess. Someone hurt her pretty badly, I think... someone she really thought a lot of." _Explains a lot about their relationship_, Kirk thought as Lucian shrugged and sighed. "I'm sorry it ended. She's a great kid, really. Bit messed up, if you want the truth, but I guess you can't have everything. She's been a great CMO and I'll be sad to let her go."

"What do you mean?"

"Starfleet's sending the old CMOs back out to their original postings. Give it another few months and Doctor Charlotte will be back on Earth and being forced to take her final exams."

"But that's _crazy_!" Kirk blurted out, stunned. "She's been a Chief Medical Officer in wartime service! She should be a certified officer!"

"Jim, this is _Starfleet_ we're talking about. Since when have the admiralty _ever_ done anything that _remotely _made any sense at all?"

"They gave me the _Enterprise,_" Kirk said thoughtfully. A wicked gleam found its way into Lucian's eyes.

"Like I said, when have they _ever_ done anything that remotely made sense?"

"Hey!"

"Kidding!"

For a moment, both men were silent, staring out into the night.

"Lucian..."

"Yeah, Jim?"

"I really am sorry."

"Me too, kid. Me too."

* * *

Spock strode through the dimly lit streets of the slumbering city, his mind carefully dissecting the day's events. He was curious about the eccentric Chancellor, there was no denying the fact. He found the alien to be unique in his understanding of life and its place in the universe, yet somewhat structured by what he would identify most closely as some sort of religious belief.

He was unshaken in the belief that their discussion hadn't brought the congress any closer to admitting the doctors' innocence in the heinous act of murder, but it was a place to begin from. Building trust with the Chancellor would mean a great deal of political support, something they would need to exonerate their comrades. It would have to be handled delicately, something he trusted only himself to do. Kirk was an admirable representative of the Federation, but negotiating McCoy and Charlotte's clemency – if it came to that – would require tact that he knew the captain did not possess.

Arriving back at the villa, Spock noticed his captain in deep conversation with Malbrook on the balcony above him. Deciding that it would more prudent if he waited until the captains concluded their deliberations, he moved inside and settled down on one of the couches in the common area. Malbrook's security detail were absent, something that piqued Spock's attention for a moment, before a loud snore from down the hall informed him of the location of at least _one_ of the men.

Twenty-three minutes later (Spock was always was always conscientious about time), Jim trooped down the stair, tousling his own hair sleepily. Spock stood politely, hands folded behind his back. The captain yawned and gave his First Officer the attention he desired. "Yes, Spock?"

"Captain, I have spoken with the Chancellor as you requested."

"And?"

"I believe he is sympathetic to our situation. However, I am uncertain as to his motives. I would suggest that we work on establishing alibis for both doctors..." Spock trailed off as Jim looked shiftily from side to side. "Captain, is there something wrong?"

"Hmm? No, nothing the matter. You were saying?"

Suspicious of Jim's blatant inability to hide the fact his mind was elsewhere, Spock eyed the direction to the room where both doctors were housed. "Are Doctor McCoy and Doctor Charlotte present?"

"Uh, see, about that..."

"Captain, are they _here_?"

Jim gave him a sheepish grin. "Technically, they're both off-duty. It's nearly midnight."

"They are Federation ambassadors. They are _never_ off-duty. Do you know where they are?"

"No."

"No? Captain, I do not understand your reasoning..."

"Spock, right now, I'm not ready for ethical debating. Right now, I'm ready for bed. So far today, nothing has tried to eat me, kill me, torture me, tackle me, maim me or otherwise harm my person. That, in my view, makes this mission a success so far. If my chief medical officer disappears with a rather lovely and bright young woman for a little while, then good for him. He deserves a break."

"Jim, where are they?" The question was deadpan, but not threatening. Jim knew Spock wasn't disputing his authority, but as First Officer, he had a right to know.

"I honestly don't know where they are right now, but if I had to guess... I'd say they'd be at the hospital right now."

Spock's eyebrow flew upward. "The hospital? Captain, why..."

"Spock." Jim moved to the Vulcan's side and grabbed him by the shoulders. "The answers we're looking for are in that building and the only ones who can get in and out are Bones and Doctor Charlotte. I didn't want to put them in this situation, but there's no-one else. Spock, come on."

The First Officer stepped back and gave Kirk an appraising look. "If they are caught, you know what the consequences will be... not only to them, but to the Federation."

Jim nodded soberly. "I know. Doctor McCoy knows, too. That's why they aren't going as Federation operatives."

"Captain?"

"We can't take responsibility if they are caught. Both doctors will have to be reprimanded, dishonourably discharged and have their medical licenses revoked. As for Doctor Charlotte, she'll be expelled from the Academy and refused re-entry indefinitely."

It occurred to Spock in that moment that perhaps he had underestimated the stakes for both doctors involved. "I understand, Captain."

"Good. Now, if you have nothing further to report, I think I'll get some sleep and I recommend you do the same."

"Understood. Good night, Captain."

Jim trundled wearily back up the stairs towards his room, mind running over the conversation. The ramifications if his plan went sour weren't so great for him, either. He would be held accountable and most likely stripped of his captaincy – a fate he considered worse than death itself.

But Bones was his best friend and loyal colleague – always had been, always would be. The man had risked expulsion from the Academy just to get him onboard the _Enterprise_. He couldn't sit by and watch him fall under false allegations when he _knew_ he was innocent. Bones took his Hippocratic Oath deadly seriously, a doctor to his very core. If he lost his license... Jim knew that would be the end of his friend. He couldn't allow that to happen to the man who had saved his life more times than he cared to recall. He had to give him a chance. Sitting on the edge of the bed and stared out of the window into the night.

"Godspeed, Bones," he whispered.

* * *

**Author's Disclaimer**: I'm a poor uni student, not J.J. Abrams.

_Author's notes_: Wow, how slack am I? Three weeks without a chapter! Yet chapter two of Blank Slate is already up. Bad me. You can kill me later. So I decided to do something different with this chapter – no Bones _or_ Britannia! I thought it worked better that way. I mean, the mini fluffy thing between them (NOT calling it a love story... it's NOT a love story!) swallowed the entire last chapter, so I thought hey, let's try an outsider-chapter! Pretty good, eh? Yeah, I thought so, too!

_Author's Thanks_: Tenebrielle has been amazing. I've had to up my game to be as good as her fic, **Seventh Circle**, that I'm beta-ing -shameless self plug here-

To all the fans that stay in touch and allow me to debate the goings-on in this story, you make it worth the extra effort! Chapter Twenty is already three hundred words in! Hurrah!


	20. Chapter 20: How Can I Continue On?

Chapter Twenty: How Can I Continue On?

Leonard McCoy had been in some interesting circumstances during his brief span thus far in the universe. In medical school, he'd been in a fraternity that had super-glued the Dean's office door closed and slipped some Braxan spug spores into one of his tutor's Andorian ale (the alcohol had acted as a catalyst to turn the man silver for three days). During his residency, he had hidden a young intern after she had accidentally broken the Chief of Surgery's favourite antique fountain pen and squirted the ink down her scrubs. Then there had been all those nights out with Jim...

But nothing could come close to this. Here he was, a grown man who should _know_ better, sneaking around outside an alien hospital dressed in black slacks, standard boots and the black Tinvarian hypoallergenic wool sweater that Jim had bought for him the previous Christmas as a change from "that ratty old leather jacket you're always wearing on shore leave".

The pale lights from the lobby of the unremarkable building filtered through the windows and illuminated their path weakly from where they had beamed down behind the medical facility. Tip-toeing to the front of the hospital, Britannia consulted her concealed chronometer and glanced at the entrance. "Okay, so it's almost local midnight. The shift change should be sometime soon."

"I feel like an idiot," McCoy growled under his breath, eyes trained on the entrance. Britannia shrugged.

"You look like an idiot."

"Hey!"

"You're the one that said it."

"I didn't ask you to agree."

"Shhh," the other doctor flailed at him wildly, ducking into the shadows. Following her lead, Leonard concealed himself barely moments before the doors opened to allow the same administrator they had met previously to leave the building. They waited until the Zixaan had disappeared into the night, before sneaking up to the scanner on the outside of the building and pressing the card against it. The scanner bleeped cheerfully and the doors hissed open to allow them entry. The young woman slipped inside and pressed her back hard against the inside of the building.

"Dammit, woman, I'm a doctor, not a secret agent," McCoy hissed as Britannia edged along the wall. She pointed up at the ceiling silently, then pressed a finger against her lips. Leonard peered up at the roof, trying to see what she was indicating. Against the white ceiling, there were three long, thin strips of flickering light. He looked back at the woman in front of him, who mouthed _security feeds_ at him in an over-exaggerated manner. Eyes widened slightly, McCoy nodded silently, following her lead against the wall. Mentally, he was kicking himself. He hadn't even thought to look for potential security systems.

After what felt like an eternity, the pair slunk up against the cool metal paneling that was the elevator to the lower levels. As the doors slid open, both doctors slipped inside and tucked themselves into the corner next to the level selections.

"Let's start with neurology, shall we?" McCoy whispered, pressing his thumb against a button as Britannia nodded. The elevator jolted to life and descended swiftly past the floors they had been given access to. Once they passed the third floor, Britannia began to giggle uncontrollably. Raising an eyebrow, McCoy stared at her incredulously. "Why the _hell_ are you laughing?"

"I feel... oh, it's ridiculous..."

"Out with it, Charlotte."

"I feel like I'm sneaking into the Principal's office!"

The other eyebrow shot up to join it's counterpart. "I can't _believe_ you're likening a covert operation to a school-yard prank! My God, it's so goddamn..." he stopped short of saying what he wanted to, which ranged from the most harsh (childish) to homesick (Georgian). Because it was all of it. It was childish and silly and all of it made him homesick, most of all the sound of her giggle. He loved that sound, he really did – it was something she really didn't do enough of. But it was dragging him away from being CMO McCoy and forcing him to be Leonard again, something he couldn't afford right now.

Later would be a different story.

"I need you to shut up," he hissed, finally finishing the sentence. Britannia smiled apologetically at him and nodded, taking one of his massive paws in her considerably smaller hands.

"Sorry," she whispered. McCoy nodded in acceptance as the lift slowed to a stop and the doors slid noiselessly open. Both doctors peered cautiously outside the tiny room into the unknown, almost paranoid as to what they would find.

What they found was a room like all the others they'd seen; sterile, white and empty. Britannia's shoulder's slumped. "We worked ourselves up... for this?"

"Shhh," McCoy hushed as he moved with a usually repressed feline grace into the room, right hand lingering near his hip where his borrowed phaser rested with a reassuring weight. Hippocratic oath or not, Bones was a practical man and in these circumstances, it was practical to go in armed. These actions did not go unnoticed by his partner.

"You look like James Bond," Britannia whispered as she peeped around his broad back. McCoy, concentration locked on his surroundings, missed the reference.

"What?"

"Y'know, that twentieth century spy... creeping around, gadgets on his belt..."

"You're likening me to a militant infiltrator now?"

"Yeah... but he _was_ really hot."

"That's about the _only_ thing we have in common."

"I think I'd probably add arrogance to that, actually."

Choosing not to answer back to that insidious comment, McCoy made his way across the room, to a set of double doors with a touch-pad to the right hand side. Pressing his security pass against the pad, Leonard rocked back on his heels as the doors hissed open.

The room beyond was huge in comparison to all the others they had previously been in. There were two rows of what appeared to be comfortable recliners with a strange piece of equipment that looked like a head massager extending down from the ceiling to just above the recliners. A simple metal chair was placed next to each of these, with a computer panel set into the wall. Britannia stared around at the strange room. "You know... I don't think this is conventional neurology."

"No... those metal dome things, they look like they have electrodes attached," McCoy breathed, padding over to a recliner and kneeling on it for a better look at the equipment. He reached up and grasped the helmet-like apparatus and pulled it gently down towards him, ensuring that he wasn't wrenching it and causing damage. While he was doing this, Britannia noticed a small touch-screen embedded into the wall next to the recliner. Curious, she investigated it in the only way she knew how; by walking over and prodding the sensitive surface.

The outcome was instantaneous; the helmet slammed down on McCoy's head with all the ambition of being a twentieth-century freight train. It immediately attached the electrodes to his temples and forced him back into the recliner. If the doctor had been more prepared, he might've fought back. But as soon as the electrodes attached themselves, he went limp and slack-jawed, sagging under the weight of the equipment.

Britannia's hand shot to her mouth to stop the scream of shock, clamping down hard over her lips as McCoy twitched erratically. The screen sprang to life and flashed up a rotating image with a list of read-outs beside it. Dragging her eyes away from her companion, the young Starfleet medic examined the data.

"Oh my god..." Britannia breathed, sparing a glance for the doctor. Pulling out a small, portable PADD, she took a copy of the readings and pocketed it. Turning her attentions to McCoy, she searched for a way to remove the metal casing around his head. Finding no manual override, she returned to the screen and punched in a series of commands that took her to what looked like a menu. From there, she deduced that the machine was entirely monitored from the central network and each one was individually operated from the touch-screen installed next to it.

Finding the right commands to switch it off took a little longer, but eventually the helmet relinquished its grip on the CMO's head and retreated towards the ceiling. A few seconds later and McCoy was coughing, his eyes rolling. Britannia sat next to him and took his left hand in her own two. "You okay?"

Leonard blinked, trying to focus and gave her a weak smile. "Now then, you wouldn't be worried about little ol' _me_, now would you?"

Britannia smirked and slapped his arm lightly. "You idiot. You had ten pounds of metal crash into you and you passed out. Of course I was worried."

McCoy whistled and looked up. "Ten pounds of metal? I'd say that was more like seven..."

"Stop being obtuse and come look at this."

McCoy swung his legs over the edge and peered over her shoulder as she pulled out the small PADD and showed him the data. "That machine is a brain scanner, but it's unlike anything I've ever seen. More importantly, it monitors the conductivity between sections of the brain."

"What do you mean by that?" McCoy asked, taking the PADD from her hands and looking at his own readings. Britannia's young face was grim.

"A normal human brain has a left and right side, correct? Well, normally, neurologists wouldn't be too worried if the two halves were still stuck together."

McCoy's head shot up. "Still stuck together? You mean that there's a reading on here that monitors brain adherence?"

Britannia nodded. "Yep. Was the first thing that popped up. The strangest thing is that it has a percentage of adherence. As if they were concerned with how much the brain is still stuck together. Your readings are a little scrambled, since you're not a Zixaan and they are yet to be capable of fully understanding how to read another being's brain."

"So clearly, the brain halves separating is a common enough ailment in Zixaan physiology. But then why the secrecy?" McCoy mused. Britannia shrugged.

"I don't think that's half their problems. If I had to guess, there's more to this than brains falling apart."

A loud thud came from the floor above, followed by a crash of metal and a blood-curdling scream that made the pair jump. As one, they dashed back through the auto-door and sprinted for the elevator. Once they arrived, Britannia slammed her thumb down on the button that would take them to the upper floor. McCoy looked down at her.

"Are you afraid?"

Britannia didn't move her head. "I'm terrified."

"We don't have to do this, y'know. We can leave right now with the readings we got, take 'em back to Jim and Malbrook and this can all be over with right now."

"Really?" Britannia pressed the stop button and the elevator ground to a halt. She looked up at him and folded her arms. "You think we can walk away now? You think it's that easy? Leonard, if we don't investigate and see this through to the end, we'll still be doctors. We'll still have held true to our medical code. But do you honestly think we could look our respective captains in the eye again?"

McCoy had to hand it to her; all that time as the medical student body's top ethical debater had made her a formidable person to argue with. He knew that he'd never be able to let Jim trust him again if he left now, but at the same time, he didn't want to put Britannia in danger. "Then you go. I'll carry on alone."

Britannia raised an eyebrow and chuckled, starting up the lift again. "Fat chance, buster. Like it or lump it, we're in this together now."

"Oh we are, are we?" McCoy rumbled, a smile dragging up the corners of his mouth. His hand found the stop button again as the other caressed her lower back. "Stuck in the middle with you..."

"Doctor! This isn't the time or the place..."

"No? We're not going anywhere. We've got all night. Why not?"

"Leonard, we can't... I'm not... not in a lift, do you hear me?!"

McCoy backed her into a corner and captured her mouth with his. When he finally came up for air, he cradled her face in his hands. "Brit, I haven't seen you in a coon's age. Then fate drops you in my lap and for the most excruciating time I've had to try and ignore the fact that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the galaxy other than wherever you are, making you a very happy woman. Now, you can tell me that I have to wait, not here, not now, that we're destined for heartbreak... but here and now, I got adrenalin running through my veins and I'll be damned if I'm not gonna say what's on my mind. Now, I'm gonna kiss you again and you can stop me and we'll go and find out what made that noise and maybe get ourselves killed. Or you can let me kiss you and show you that I've missed you."

Britannia let the weight of his words settle on her and sighed. "You drive a hard bargain, Leonard McCoy," she whispered, as her fingers wound into his hair and pulled him _much_ closer. Smiling against her lips, McCoy was emphatically glad he did.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Thanks to everyone who was patient while I found my writer's feet again. I lost this story for a while and for the people I've neglected, the fans I have not paid enough attention to, I must emphatically apologise.

You all know I don't own this. But if you love the story and you feel kind to me, remember, tomorrow is my birthday and a review is a great present.

Thanks to everyone who made this possible, especially my crew at STARFLEET; my CO Bruce O'Brien and the head of the Starfleet Marine Reserves Leo Brunelle (_USS Southern Cross_), both of whom gave me back my faith in writing ST09 fiction.

There's a short story I've penned over at the STARFLEET fiction database called _In Limbo_. If you're interested in McCoy's inner turmoil, the consensus is that it's a pretty good read.

Thanks again, - L-B


	21. Chapter 21: Pursue The Truth

Chapter Twenty-One: Pursue The Truth

Kirk paced worriedly in the sitting room of the villa, unable to keep still as Lucian buried his face in his hands and Spock watched him patiently. "Captain, it distresses me to see you so agitated. Should I send out for -"

"Spock," Kirk rounded on his first officer with unusual venom, "I'd appreciate it if you would shut the hell up."

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "I am aware that you are concerned for the wellbeing of Doctors McCoy and Charlotte. But may I remind you that both are trained in hand-to-hand combat as part of their officer's rank requirements."

Kirk sank down in a chair and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. "I don't like them out there alone, Spock. It was a mistake to send them out alone."

"If I can interject here," Lucian spoke up, casting a glance over at the Captain and his first officer. "Leonard and Britannia aren't children. It's not like we've sent them to school on their own for the first time. They were the only choices for the mission and... well, I don't know about _your_ chief medical officer, but I trust mine to get the job done." Suddenly, Kirk felt very silly. Lucian cracked a half-grin at him. "But that doesn't mean that I'm not worried about them. I would have expected a report by now."

Kirk chanced a surreptitious look at his chronometer. It was almost one-thirty in the morning. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and tried to push the nagging worry out of his head. "We knew they wouldn't be able to contact us once they were inside. What's worrying me is that they aren't out yet."

Lucian snuck a grin at Kirk. "Well, there's always the chance that they're... preoccupied..."

Kirk groaned and rolled his eyes as Spock gave Malbrook a quizzical look. "I am not entirely certain I can determine the sub-textural meaning of that statement, Captain. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

"No, Spock, I really think he shouldn't," Jim said quickly, cutting Lucian off before he could fulfill the Vulcan's request, the wicked smirk on his face saying more than needed to be said. Lucian sat back and sulked.

"Well, we can't just sit here doing _nothing._ It's driving us all mad," Malbrook complained. Jim stretched in his hair and looked at his chronometer again. One forty-five. This was getting ridiculous.

"I think we just need to go to bed and leave McCoy and Charlotte to get the mission done. Sitting around worrying isn't helping anyone," he finally admitted. Lucian nodded and yawned.

"Sounds like a plan. All this stress has got me beat," the captain of the _Arbitory_ agreed, stretching out and standing up. He leaned over and rested a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Jim, I wouldn't be so worried. If they're still not back after we get some sleep, we'll go and get them. Sound alright?"

Jim looked up, affording his friend a curt nod and a half smile. "Okay."

He allowed Captain Malbrook to walk him up to his room, musing briefly that it felt like being dragged home by Bones after a big night out. He tumbled onto the bed and closed his eyes. As Malbrook left the room, he thought he heard Jim mumble sleepily, "... night Bones."

Allowing himself a moment to recall the spectacular nights on the town he'd had with the former cadet, Lucian grinned to himself. "Night, Jim. Got a big day tomorrow. Need to get some sleep."

Once Kirk was sound asleep in his room, Lucian returned to find Spock still in the sitting room. "I thought you would have retired to your rooms by now, Mr. Spock."

"Your logic is not without merit, however erroneous. I, also, surmised you would return to your quarters and in this case, I, too, have been proved incorrect. I simply wished to consider our position in Zixaan politics a little longer and as my thoughts have been preoccupied with the Captain's mental well-being for most of this evening, I now finally have some time to do so."

Lucian sat down next to Spock and searched his face for some inkling that this was all a big joke. "You've got to be kidding."

"Kidding? On-duty, Captain, I do not engage in frivolous humour unless it is necessary for the mission."

"Mr. Spock, tell me, are you ever afraid?"

"I do not understand the question."

"Do you feel fear? Are there things in this universe that cause you to freeze, to question your continued existence or to wish ill on another for the events that have transpired?"

Spock paused for a moment, the image of his mother disappearing over the cliff on Vulcan flashing through his mind. "Captain, you took the _Kobayashi Maru_, I assume?"

"Part of the requirements for graduating, 'course I did. Why?"

"In order to answer your question, I need you to answer mine. When you took it, what happened and how did you feel?"

Lucian sat back and thought, his face carefully blank. When he began to speak again, his voice was quiet and measured. "I... wasn't much different to Jim, I suppose. Young, brash, so sure... so sure of myself and my skills. I was going to blaze across the sky, leaving the stars blinking in my wake. My enemies would whisper my name in fear and those I would be hero to would welcome me anywhere I went. Then I was in the captain's chair."

The words, Spock noted, were dictated dispassionately – almost as if he were reading from some biography written by someone else. The first officer motioned for the human to continue in his story. "I can't have been the first to take the test – they'd been using it for years. But I was the first to take yours. The final version, at least. The version that was perfect in execution, the version that no-one bothered to tell any of the cadets was completely unwinnable. That version."

"You were the first? I don't believe I recall that day."

A cold smirk. "I'm sure you wouldn't. You weren't there. You were taking a class on xenolinguistics, I believe. But I sat in the chair with the same confidence I'm sure you spotted on Kirk's face when he first took the test. I was going to pass. I was _going_ to beat the test."

"What ship did you choose?"

"USS _Casanova_. Chose it for the name, not the firepower."

"You would have been better suited taking the USS _Rodriguez_. First-time cadets are usually advised that the shield capacity on it far exceeds the other ships on offer."

"Thanks for the advice _now_. Anyway, the first wave of Klingon war-birds appeared and I ordered the first salvo of photon torpedoes. But how do you hit what you can't see? After the first one went down, the other two cloaked and dropped off the scanners. We started beaming the stranded crew aboard when one of the war-birds decloaked port side and began firing on us. Within thirty seconds, the _Casanova_'s side and underbelly was shredded. Engineering was missing half their crew and Medical were overrun with casualties. I turned to run, but there was a command ship on my tail. The other war-bird decloaked and began firing on me. I engaged defensive and evasive maneuvers, but it was too late. The ship was in too bad a state to execute them properly and a photon hit the warp core. All hands lost in one minute twenty."

Spock regarded him with a mildly interested expression. "And this... scared you?"

Lucian leaned in, his eyes dark. "No, Mr. Spock. What scared me was facing a similar scenario years later _for real_ and realising that the universe _is that dangerous_. What scared me was that in the simulation, there was no real way to survive. Anyone who took that test _had_ to die. But when you know it isn't a simulation, _when your life really is on the line_... then winning is limping home, life support almost dead and warp completely disabled, primary thrusters the only thing keeping you going and you _pray – _you pray, Mr. Spock – to whatever deity you believe in that between you and the next outpost is nothing but empty space. _That_ scared me."

"So when you failed..."

"I took a blow to my ego." The captain settled and a warmer smile kindled a light to his features. "Nothing too stressful, then. I got ribbed for it, but I walked away none the worse for it."

"I see," Spock murmured, his long fingers entwined in each other. "Then, in answer to your question, yes. There are things that scare me. But I refuse to allow my fear to control me."

"Right. Sometimes I forget you're not human."

At one time, Spock would have found that statement something to have pride in, as much as a Vulcan could. Now it grated against him, a sharp insult meant to injure. In the truest spirit of Vulcan, he let the insult slide over him and Lucian didn't give it a second thought. He smiled again briefly and closed his eyes. It was not long before the captain was breathing deep and evenly, quiet snores issuing from his relaxed form.

It was only then that Spock stood up and walked to the front door, opening it silently and stepping out into the cool, early morning air. He looked up at the dark sky and observed the burn of the suns, millions of miles away from the planet he currently stood upon. The human in him pointed out that there was an eternity of beauty in the night sky – every planet had a different version, had their own constellations, had their own myths and legends woven into the lights.

Spock often puzzled over this side of him. There would always be the human need to explore, not just observe and analyse.

His footsteps were feline in their silence as he moved quickly down the road, pulling his communicator from his pocket. Flipping it open, he paused for a moment and sent out the signal. "_Enterprise_, this is Commander Spock, do you read me?"

It was dead for a moment before the reply came. _Yes, Commander. We are reading you loud and clear. Has Doctor McCoy reported in yet?_

"Negative. Both doctors have failed to return to the landing party. Do you have a location of their whereabouts?"

_No, Commander. Both Doctor McCoy and Doctor Charlotte are failing to show on our scanners. Do you require back-up?_

"That will not be immediately necessary. We have no evidence that would suggest that they require assistance. If we rush in, we could put them in further danger. The captain has decided to wait until daybreak planet-side before anyone is to search for them."

_Commander..._ Spock recognised Uhura's voice taking on a familiar edge. _You __are__ with the captain, aren't you?_

"Affirmative. The captain is not far away." It wasn't a lie, he told himself. The captain was just up the road, not far at all. He could easily walk back and arrive before dawn broke. "Please monitor all communication carefully. We may need assistance immediately, so brief a security team for back-up if the situation arises. I will also need you to send me a full schematic for the local hospital in the event that the doctors require extraction."

_Confirmed, Commander. Enterprise will await further orders._

"Spock out." The communicator went dead and Spock replaced it in his pocket. A few seconds later, the tricorder slung low on his hip beeped softly. He lifted it to his chest and perused the transmission, then looked up at the sky once more, thinking about the _Enterprise _waiting in orbit. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the stars, "but right now, I can't be afraid."

With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness in the direction of the hospital.

* * *

_Author's notes:_

Sorry, sorry, I'm always late with this. Know that I haven't abandoned it, but I _am_ obsessed with **One Promise Kept**, a totally epic _Alice in Wonderland_ fic. I thoroughly recommend it.

Thank you to all of you who have been following this. If you're into _Doctor Who_, I'm also starting work on an episode of my own – _Second Song_ with the 11th Doctor. Chapter One, _Silent Waltz_, is already here. Enjoy it!

Once again, I don't own a damn thing. I still do want to, though. This is a totally Kirk/Spock/Malbrook-centric chapter, but 22 won't be.


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